Star Metal Marauders- Highway Harvest

"Yes, but your Royal Highness is currently taken." Sparhawk smiles, "Hum, maybe Earl, Grand Master, or you could be a Rear Admiral, as you are definitely a pain in the ..."

Sparhawk laughs loudly. At times,his orchish mannerisms of showing emotion overtook his human side.

" Would you like a crown, Bjorn?"

" I can make you one....once I get some rib-bones and a spine."

"By now Reginald, it should be apparent to you we are a high-spirited group but also enjoy a good laugh." "We once made a bet on our former captain's background." He looks at the group. "We all threw in coins, gave our theory, and waited patiently for her to tell us what she did before being captain." He smiles, lost in thought.  "In the end, I sincerely believe she was so worried Vars would get the satisfaction of winning all that gold, she arranged to get swallowed up by an octopus in the middle of nowhere before she revealed it to us."
He laughs again at Var's expense, slapping Bjorn and Frangipani on the backs.  "I could of won a pretty penny for that bet."

Reginald grins at Sparhawk's story, then turns a little grim. "Well, how I came about my skills as a navigator's assisant is a convoluted story..."  He pauses, wondering how much he should tell these new crewmates, then pushes on,  "I was taken by slavers when I was a mere child. I was eventually sold to a wizard to serve as a scullery servant.  He recognized that I had the 'spark' and took me on as an apprentice." The young man stares straight ahead while walking, continues on "He had me stay with a group on druids for a couple of years to teach me the ways of the sea and how to read it.  Since then I've been moving from ship to ship, up and down the coast this last year.  Now I'm part of your group."

“Well,” Sparhawk looks dead serious, “your story is as sad as the rest of us.” Sparhawk looks at Frangipani.  “Almost as bad.  You’ll fit right in.  But with us, you’re not a slave, your not a servant, your not an apprentice. Now you are your own man, your one of us, your my brother.”  As is his way, the huge Half orc gives Reginald a hug. 

Vars rolls his eyes, "Yes, I think we all know who would have won that bet." 

After half-listening to Reginald's story...and appearing completely uninterested...he says, "Well, now we know that everyone present has had equally depressing backstories... and we all somehow managed to wind up here." 

“Indeed Vars, we have nothing but our faith, our personal  beliefs, and our friendship with each other, my brother”

"The wind blows where it will, but we manange our own sails." replies Reginald.

Frangipani nodded enthusiastically, awkwardly patting Reginald on the arm, " You are friend now, not slave."

" Is better."

She seemed to get lost in happy memories for a moment, " Yes....is good you are not slave.  They were never happy."

"Oooo, I like that!" Sparhawk says, looking at the wizard. "I'm gonna write that one down so that when His Grace, Bjorn Erlandson approaches the peasants, I have some good heraldry to announce his presence to the masses....."All hail, His Grace, the Great Bjorn.......master of his own sails, full of hot blowing wind. Did I get that right?" It's clear that Sparhawk is ready for some action, and he's hoping to find the Baron soon, although pestering his friends is somewhat amusing.  

Bjorn looks sideways at Reginald. "Still working under the same wizard?" There's an edge of judgement in his voice, as if he considers enslavement to be a personal failing.

He grins at Sparhawk. "I'll be sure to appoint ye a nice easy job, like the royal poison tester perhaps. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. There are plenty of rich folk to exploit before I get around to exploiting the poor."

"I feel like we're trying to find a merchant in a haystack here." Bjorn looks for someone nearby to ask about Dietrich.

"Na, there is probably only one Baron, if we keep looking we'll find him, or more likely, his people have been watching us and he'll find us when he wants." He whispers to Bjorn, not being too concerned if his friends here but being careful, "Just because folks dress fancy, doesn't mean the gangs and corruption we saw in Luskan don't exist here. There were different bosses in Luskan, I"m guessing the same structure exists here."

To his friends but under his breath and in a quick abrupt change of his jovial outward and loud mood (for show), "I feel safer in a dark cave than I do in this market. Just my instincts. Keep sharp, I think we are being watched."

You make your way into the warehouse district not far from the nicest docks you have ever seen. There are large ships in the harbor a lots of men moving cargo on and off of them. The dock hands at least look as rough as you are used to, but everything else is of much higher quality. You being to follow the warehouse numbers when Sparhawk notices 5 roughians beating on a skinny sea elf. Reginald recognizes him from the Druid enclave where he was trained in seafaring.

Lir's shapeless seal-leather coat is not absorbing as many of the blows as he'd like. 

His breath is laboured. He sees you all, and for once, trusts in the good nature of his fellows. 

".....help....'

(Lir is a sea elf with an unhealthy, short, malnourished appearance, lank dark hair, wearing a long, patched leather seal-skin coat - cheers folks). 

"Ok my friends, time for a bit of fun" Sparhawk says to his group, "I'm wanna work off my breakfast. "Ho there sailors." Sparhawk's voice is loud but quite friendly.  "What did this scrawny ugly homeless excuse for an elf every do to you?" Sparhawk, a huge half orc in Scale mail approaches. "If you leave him to me and my band, I'll buy you's all a drink. We are bored and I wanna try out my new Morningstar."

(Persuasion) 13

Sparhawk notes that the elf's armor looks similar to Frangipanis. (Hum, a second test from the Baron, the first was to see if we would attack him, he thinks quietly as he continues his friendly ruse)

Reginald's eyes widen as he spots the Sea Elf, He lights the end of his staff with a quick spell (Light spell to let them know he's not your average wharf rat.) "That elf you be messing with is an aquaintence of mine." He gives them a dreadful look.

Reginald looks like he's ready to knock some skulls in if they don't back off from Lir.

Bjorn raises his eyebrows but otherwise makes no move.

One of the thugs, a burly human with a watch cap on, stops beating on Lir for a moment and says “ that’s right kind of ye, after we collect from this scurvy sea dog, we will let you buys us a drink” 

As he is about to return to slapping around poor Lir, he has a bright light in eyes from Reginalds staff. 
thug1 save 19, thug2 20, thug3 4, thug4 14, thug5 15