A downright stentorian roar of "HELLO TINY TURTLE MAN" reverberates through the ship's hold as the dragon swoops low. The ship rocks with the wind of its passage. Shortly thereafter, another roar shakes the ship. "WHAT BRINGS YOU TO THESE WATERS?" The boat rocks again. It seems the dragon is not interested in fighting, at least for now.
Captain Fargrim stumbles out of the cabin, looking annoyed. "Who the blazes is causing all that - oh."
Fenrir sits brooding under a tarp as the rest of the day passes. He doesn't bother unpacking his camp - Everything is wet, including him because tarps are damn useless.
He'd briefly considered asking someone if there were any apples on board, but he rather doubted it.
He'd finally managed to slip into a doze before being woken up by a damned dragon.
Fenrir grabs his sling by instinct, but does manage to stop himself. Making a brief evaluation of the small cluster of weapons he'd managed to salvage in Waterdeep, the poor shape of his armor, his exhaustion after fighting the storm, that he was still on a damned boat (now further damaged by a storm), and the fact that the dragon wasn't immediately hostile... He probably couldn't do this on his own at the moment. Instead, Fenrir listened to his inner Wolf whispering 'Wait,' and sat back within his tarp to watch.
Fargrim cups his hands next to his mouth and bellows an answer of his own. "CLANGEDDIN'S COCK, YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO WE ARE YOU SCALY OLD BINT."
At this, the dragon laughs delightedly and dives for the deck. Its bulk fills your vision for a horrifying second before abruptly shrinking down into the shape of a small halfling woman that picks the captain off his feet and twirls him about. "Fargrim! I didn't think you'd be back this way so soon!" She plants a kiss on Fargrim's cheek that he takes with the air of someone resigned to their fate. "Who's your turtle friend here?"
"Raff! It's short for something, or at least that's what people tell me. I hail from the Snout of Omgar." He is genuinely pleased to see the dragon turn into a halfling. "Where did the rest of you go?"
Mortimer stood at the... whatever part of the ship is where you go below decks. He couldn't remember. Did it have a special name? Sailors had new names for everything, for no apparent reason. Heck, the floor wasn't even the floor. Anyway, the noise had woken him up and drawn him up to the deck in time to see the dragon dive towards the ship and suddenly change into something a hundredth of its original size. "Yeah, where did the rest of you go?"
It had been expected that sleeping on board a ship would take some getting used to for Talindra. She was a light sleeper on the best of days after all and the water was still a bit rocky from the storm. Maybe. That may have just been normal. The shouting that woke her didn't seem normal though so she pulled herself out of sleep to stand behind some kid and watch the proceedings. First there was a dragon and they were all going to die! Then there was a halfling and they may still all die. She wasn't quite sure at this point what with the captain hollering insults at the DRAGON of all things. The kid asked a question and Talindra turned her boggled expression to him. Why would you say anything to the dragon that didn't know you were there yet? But now she was talking too.. "Dragon, kid. Dragon. What do you expect?"
"The rest of me? It's all here!" The dragon/halfling seems amused and wiggles her bottom demonstratively before gesturing at Talindra. "She knows." She turns back to Fargrim with a grin on her face. "You've got quite the crew with you this time."
Fargrim rolls his eyes. "The crew's the same as last time. These lot are just passing through."
At this, the dragon's eyes brighten considerably and she says something in Draconic, before catching herself. "How interesting." She peers closely at the party (well, those she can see). "You're in luck. There's plenty of fighting to be done down there." She casts an eye to the south. "Might be plenty of fighting to do before you get down there, of course."
You, of course, speak Draconic, so you catch what the dragon says: "Off to wage war against the undead in Chult, are they?"
Granted, his Wolf used magic now and then, but it was always... well, subtle. Not shape-shifting from giant monster to person. Admittedly, Fenrir didn't trust much, but he definitely didn't trust this creature, whatever it was.
Fenrir removed his rapier from his pack, pausing briefly to examine it. He'd done his best, but the blade hadn't been great to start with. Holding the blade in a casual sort of way, Fenrir unfolded himself from under his tarp and approached the small group forming around the creature. Ignoring the idiot Tortle, Fenrir positions himself near the two potentially useful party members and.... just kind of stands there, watching, casually holding a sword, and looking like he was sick of all this shit long ago.
The dragon glances over briefly at the new arrival. She almost seems amused. Before she can say anything, however, Fargrim interrupts her.
"What do you mean, plenty of fighting before we get down there?"
"Exactly what I said, my dear dwarf. There's pirates about - there's been more taking their chances at heading up from Chult these days. With the increase in traffic to and from there I'm not surprised." The dragon shrugs. "It's certainly kept me busy, I'll tell you that." She looks over at the party, and then back at the captain. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in a little extra protection? For a suitable donation, of course?"
Enri hunkered down on the deck, pulling his equipment out of his bag to prepare for whatever was coming next. In his line of work, it tended to pay to be prepared if the word 'pirate' was mentioned anywhere within earshot.
With his pistol placed in its holster and his whip coiled by his side, he felt...well, not better. Slightly less worse, perhaps, might be the proper phrase.
"Do we get a vote on that? Because I vote for dragon-based support."
Fenrir scowls and lets out a brief growl of frustration. Pirates around, and no one on watch. Idiots.
He wasn't prepared to take his eyes off the halfing/dragon, though, and he definitely was not voting for trusting whatever this creature was. Fenrir turns his head slightly and growls "Why don't you go keep watch, since this.... tortle isn't." Presumably, he's speaking to Enri, but who knows really.
Raff brightens up at the mention of pirates, if a giant grinning Tortle could brighten up further. "That sounds like the exact sort of thing I'm looking for!" He leans towards Fenrir and says in a stage whisper, "Can you believe they're going to pay us for this?"
Enri's comment seems to deeply amuse the dragon, and annoy Fargrim, who shoots a glare his way. "No, ye don't get a vote. As for you, yeh overgrown scaled nuisance," he points back at the dragon dramatically, "I'll not have you conducting a shakedown of my gullible passengers."
The dragon responds with her own dramatic defense. "I'm shocked - shocked - by this baseless accusation. I'll not stand here and take such... such slander from you."
From somewhere in the crowd of a few crew members that has gathered, you hear someone mutter "Here we go..." under their breath.
"It's not slander if it's true, lass. I'm saying what we all know."
The dragon grabs Fargrim by his collar and lifts him off the deck. "I will defend my honor, you lying scoundrel!"
There's a tense moment before Fargrim's shoulders slump dramatically. "Usual terms?"
A smile crosses the dragon's face that seems far too broad. "Oh no, my dear captain. We're going to renegotiate."
The dragon all but drags Fargrim along the deck, and the two vanish into the captain's cabin.
Fenrir stares up at the sky for a few moments, apparently unable to believe the idiocy around him.
Then he gets angry and starts shouting at the gathered crew. "Get back to work, you sons of whores! And someone get on damned watch - not the Tortle this time."
But he's not going to trust that. Glancing briefly at the main... mast or whatever, he's fairly certain it won't take his weight well. Instead, Fenrir heads toward the highest deck to keep watch himself.