“Fine,” Lera turned back. Tears were starting to prick at the corners of her eyes. “We’ll leave a sweet girl who just happens to be our employer’s younger sister alone in a house full of ghosts, or things pretending to be ghosts who will only talk to some people, but not other people. Yeah, that sounds fine.”

"We can't do anything in here." Singe violently motioning to the room, "We need to leave now."

Woe had collected a whole speech in her head but she keeps it down and instead nods to Singe. "Let's go. We can talk on the way. I am sure Polly is safe if she has been doing this for a while." 

She turns to Perrin: "Perrin, can you feel/smell anything? Stand where you need to stand, then do your thing. Then we leave."

"And you can explain why the hurry while we're walking, Singe!"

Upstairs, Woe sees Whistler with the carpenters, here to change their rooms. "Whistler, I think I can speak for everyone if I am asking for a training room. We need a safe space to practise fighting, spell casting and playing music without keeping the others awake at night. Can you please organise a room for us that suits these requirements? Also, I think we need a little more security in this house. A lock for each of our rooms and maybe even a lock on the main door, that should suffice. Thank you and goodbye! Please say hi to Polly from all of us."

Perrin will follow Zamar to his room. "Okay, I'm going to check for anything." Perrin then takes a big whiff of the air opening up his Divine Senses and smells like a kitchen, hours after baking. The slight smell of pie, very faint. You realize that smell is coming from Zamar and his divine heritage.

"I don't smell any demonic or undead presence within your room Zamar but, crazy question, are you like an angel or related to an angel. I get a very faint celestial vibe from you."

Exiting the guild hall, Singe trips over a piece of lose dirt. He looks at Lera who's staring daggers in his direction. Once everyone is out the door, Singe opens his purse. "We should really keep Viscardi's signet rings safe." After the rest of the party understands what he's asking for, they drop the rings in the pouch. Singe gloves his left hand and twists his wrist. With a puff of flame a hawk with brilliant plumage appears on his arm. The hawk is a scarlet red with an orange and yellow underbelly and tail.

"Everyone, this is Bartholomew the Blazing Bird, but he prefers Barry." Singe looks at Barry for a moment before Barry snatches the pouch out of Singe's other hand and circles above the group with it.

"I'm sorry Lera, but I don’t trust the house to keep our secrets. Whistler won’t let anything bad happen to Polly, he cares for her too much. I think the house is creating shadows of dead people discussed within the house."

Once Woe realises what Singe just did, she realises her mistake. Did I wear the pin when I sent the message? I was wearing my travellers clothes. Then yes. So whoever is listening, knows that I reported on the group... She tries to remember her exact message. Luckily I didn't use Lord Eltan's name. But then Woe remembers something else... She had a conversation with Singe. Here, in these walls... Did I say his name? She is not sure. Maybe my position? Oh this is bad. Really bad! Maybe Singe is just paranoid? Maybe it IS just a goodhearted ghost? Oh no...

"Singe, why do you think this? Did you have an experience as well?" 

It is obvious that Woe is shaken by the last revelations.

"The house hasn't reached out to me, I haven't talked about any dead loved ones inside of it. That's my best guess. It maybe Viscardi or Whistler, but it seems unlikely. If the experiences follow Zamar, then we know it's a ghost, otherwise, it's the house or something inside of it. All I know is that it's best not to anger magic things and revealing their secrets is a good way to do that." Singe sighs. "We have to go meet Grasalfan, we have a contract to fulfill. There's too many things! Too many!"

Koll looks askance at Singe. "Why are you so anxious? Do you think we are being scried upon? Where do your suspicions come from?"

He looks to Zamar. "As for ghosts, I have not seen anything. But, I have learned that attachment leads to suffering and I believe that suffering can also lead to attachment. Those who suffer cling even to the the source of their pain. Those who die might cling to their old life in the same way. As for this plague you speak of, well, look about you. A city like this is no stranger to pestilence. It is a sad, unfortunate thing, and an enemy I know not how to fight. Same with ghosts. Are these two things related in some way?"

Lera tripped Singe on their way out with a handy casting of her mold earth cantrip. The petty attack gave her a small amount of pleasure, but she was still not in a good mood. 

The continued discussions outside were not helping. She was upset about the whole situation, from leaving Polly with unknown dangers, to the fact that apparently her mother’s ghost didn’t want to see her. 

She wandered away from the group, playing with Koll Jr. and trying to tune out their conversation. Does message work on monkeys? Lera asked her new friend, scratching him behind the ears. 

"I thought it might be a possibility but..." Singe looks up at Barry, the hawk swoops down, drops Singe's pouch into his outstretched hand and lands on Singe's arm. Singe looks through the pins muttering arcane words and his pupils fill with the same vibrant blue of his irises. "Nope!" Singe says looking up from pins, his eyes still filled with the flame blue, "We're not being spied on by the pins, the house," Singe walks over to the guild hall, looks it up and down, "Same thing. Zamar, when and where did you talk about your wife?"

"I always talked to her in my room before I went to sleep, but she did not always respond. I saw her in other rooms in the Guild Hall. And Polly seems to see these shadows regularly in her room. I had another thought about our 'spirits'. As I was gathering my gear, I noticed where the workmen had been testing the walls of my quarters. I found metal sticking out. When I examined it more closely, it looked like my room may have been a cell. The metal looked like it was meant to keep something in. Could that affect the disposition of whatever has stayed behind?" 

After their short paranoid stint, the Scarlet Dawn members make their way to the docks. Their packs are full and their minds are wondering at the adventure that lay ahead. They didn't get to spend much time with Grasalfan to go over the details, so they approach the docks with little forewarning of what's to come. 

The fog stays thick throughout their walk, but the creeks of the ships and the calls of the crew around them lets them know that they're close. Finally they see the Blazing Sail. It bears the Flaming Fist flag and insignia upon the sail and Grasalfan stands next to the deck talking to a large, armored woman. A giant metal crate wrapped in leather is being craned through a pulley-system into the haul of the ship as the group approaches. 

"Ah! There they are!" He says excitedly. "The finest adventurers in Baldur's Gate, they are!" 

The woman smirks in response.

"I was just going over our final travel plans with Flame Wyre. She assures me our meals and safety will be taken care of during the journey. How very exciting!" He gestures for you all to follow up the plank.

"Hold," Flame Wyre says. "A few sea rules before you board. One," she lifts a thick, calloused finger. "We have muster at last light every night. Two - All guests are to remain below-deck during non-muster hours. Three - This is my ship, and my word is law. If anyone disagrees with any of my decisions, they will be tossed overboard." She crosses her arms over her chest, the muscles bulging through her leathers, "Understood?" 

Lera raised a hand tentatively to ask a question. “Have you ever punched anyone so hard that they got immediately knocked out?” She asked, a tad excitedly. She had spent most of the walk doing her best to ignore everyone else, because she was mad at them, but now she was so interested in the sailors that she couldn’t hold in her questions. 

Flame Wyre's smirk returns at the question. "Yes.  And if all goes well, I won't have to prove it to you." She turns her attention to the ship momentarily. "Fist Talles!" She calls. A young private comes running up to the plank from on-board the ship.

"Yes Flame?" He asks. His voice squeaks slightly as he responds. 

"Show them to their cabin," she says simply. "First muster is after launch." She turns away, but stops and turns back, "Was there anything else?"

“Why aren’t we allowed on deck? I’d really like to see the sea. Also, what if pirates attack? We are adventures; we can help defend the ship if they attack?” Perrin asks, not looking forwarded to being cooped up. 

She looks down at the little armored halfling and frowns, "You're not a member of my crew and are not a member of the Flaming Fist. To me, you're a guest aboard a transport ship and my goal is to get you safely to your destination. The easiest way for me to accomplish this is to keep you out of my crew's way as they're doing their jobs. You'll have an hour of fresh air each day during muster, but after that you're to remain out of my crew's way." She kneels down and looks Perrin in the eye, "I don't doubt your abilities, your strength, or your skills, so don't doubt mine. If we're ever to be attacked, we'll handle it." 

“I guess I see your point. We’ll see what happens. Truthfully it’ll probably depend on your food.”

Perrin says with a smile. Laying on his thick country accent. 

"His cooking is exquisite," Zamar interjects. "I would never question your decisions, but if you decide to let him help, you may find it rewarding." 

"I will let Chief know," she responds, standing. "We can talk more at the first muster," she adds. "Please stay in your cabin until called for muster." She nods to the young Fist and he gestures for the group to follow.

"Well then," Grasalfan says. "We're to make a quick stop at Fort Beluarian before landing in Port Nyanzaru." As he says this, he walks up the plank expecting you all to follow. 

The ship is large compared to the majority of the ships you've seen in this area of the docks. It has three masts that rise up, each with three sails. Every sail has the sign of the Flaming Fist emblazoned upon it. It seems as though the more they announce themselves, the better chance rival ships will steer clear. The crew all seem to be moving about like an efficient machine. They're loading hatches, preparing sails and lines, and finishing up any last-minute repairs.

Fist Talles leads you into the main deck stairway to the guest cabin. The creaks of the ship are much louder below-deck and the ship smells of wax and wood. You pass multiple cabins on your way to the guest cabin, each seemingly housing either Flaming Fist mercenaries, other guests, or the crew themselves. The guest cabin that Fist Talles finally stops at is near the aft of the ship, notably right below the Officer's quarters. He swings the door open wide, hitting hard to get it open. "Right 'ere," he squeaks. "We got, ummm... cots and beds and some hammocks, and ummm, a window!" He points to the two small circular windows that look out the back of the ship. 

Woe hangs back. "Flame Wyre, I am Woe. Thanks for taking us abord. I have heard of the dragon turtle, will you be feeding it Narwhale to calm it down?"