Well I guess I'll be a cook then. What are the rest of you doing?

Qenrabi taps her chin in thought, contemplating her possible role for the voyage. She almost seems a little nervous, tapping her hands and fingers together with an anxious rhythm. What to do, what to do... ah, she has something. "I could stand on lookout..." 

"Well, I don't much care what you do. I'll be sending an old friend, Gresmy Earthshaker by here later this night. She'll provide you with uniforms and such, as well as give instructions for anyone who needs to hide in a crate." Varrin stands up, giving everyone a warm handshake before heading for the door.
"Oh, and the boat? It’s called the Remorhaz. Tough little ship, built to cut through ice and snow. You’ll be riding that all the way to the prison. Just make sure you’re on it when it leaves—there aren’t exactly backup options out there."

Jaeha Saelurn

Jaeha nods at their friend's words, taking note of it all in a small leather-bound journal she withdraws from her robes. Her pen scribbles furiously as she uses her magic to summon ink to write with. She continues nodding, until their friend is done speaking. Then, she pipes up "Well, it looks like we have our work cut out for us. Anything else we should now?" she tilts her head inquisitively, waiting to see if there is more.

Varrin adjusts his cloak, and gives you all a hard look.
"Alright, last thing before I’m off. Once you’re on the Remorhaz, keep a low profile. You’re playing the part of staff or guards, so act the part. Most of the real staff won’t know each other by name, but they’ll recognize faces. Don’t linger in conversations too long, and keep your stories straight—make sure you know who you’re supposed to be.

If they ask where you’re from, keep it simple: just say you’re with the Icewind supply run. They won’t dig too deep as long as you’re confident. But if anyone starts asking too many questions, deflect and move on—don’t get caught in a web of lies.

And remember, Revel's End isn't just a prison—it's a fortress. You’ll have to watch for patrols, checkpoints, and magical wards once you’re inside. Stay sharp, and don’t assume anything is safe. If things go south, find an exit fast, but don't count on many places to hide.

Most important of all? Watch each other’s backs. If you go down, there's no coming back from it. You’ve got one shot at this. Mess it up, and the only place you’ll be going is a cell next to Korda herself.

Good luck. You’re gonna need it."

Understood, says Finn. To the others he says, let’s make sure we have everything we need. The ship is departing tomorrow morning and I want to be there early so my entrance isn’t observed by the other staff.

@DM any way to procure Heward's Handy Spice Pouch from a shop or Varrin as part of my disguise? I only have 15gp though 🫤

Yeah, that's alright. Also, I know your background is urchin, but y'all have pulled some rather successful heists, so go ahead and add 46.
For your sake, hopefully that turns out well lol.

Cool thanks

Qenrabi takes notice of the firm look, scrambling to stand straight up to look as attentive as possible. Keeping a low profile? She might need a less... glowy piece of headgear. Nevertheless, she nods in understanding and turns back to face her party. "Xelor provides me with all that I need. I beleive I'm ready... oh! " She snaps her head back to Varrin. "Have we a map? A telescope? Navigating tools?" She inquires, crossing her arms and tapping bandaged fingers against her bicep. "Or shall the other ships guide us?"

I believe the ship is already fully equipped and staffed. We will just be going as undercover passengers destined for the prison. We will need to lay low and not stand out during the journey.

Quote from srgharrison >>

I believe the ship is already fully equipped and staffed. We will just be going as undercover passengers destined for the prison. We will need to lay low and not stand out during the journey.

 Yup.

"I see..." Qenrabi puzzles, reaching to her neck and throwing her hood up on top of her head before gesturing to the rest of the party. "Well, I suppose we should go. We wouldn't want to be late for the trip, yes? When does it take off?"

I'm going to send a number of posts back to back since it's too long to post in one, and glitches out.
Please note, I pre wrote this a while back, so everything is just 'the players'. Thee player in the crate is Qenabi.

As dawn breaks over the icy harbor, a dense fog clings to the docks, shrouding the Remorhaz in a ghostly haze. The ship is a sturdy, weather-beaten vessel with thick iron reinforcements along its hull, designed to plow through the frozen waters of Icewind Dale. The smell of brine and the faint scent of rusted iron linger in the chill air as the players approach.

A few figures, bundled in heavy coats with hoods pulled low, are already boarding—likely staff, guards, or perhaps prisoners from other cities. The crew members are gruff and brisk, their faces hard and their movements efficient as they load crates of supplies and exchange murmured instructions. They barely glance at the players as they board, but it’s clear that everyone is here for a purpose, and there's no room for idle chatter.

As the players step onto the Remorhaz, they feel the icy chill seep through their boots; the wooden deck is slick with frost, and the railings are coated in a thin layer of ice. Inside, they’re shown to a cramped cabin, lit by a dim lantern swaying gently with the ship’s motion. The crew doesn’t offer much, just a nod to settle in and instructions to stay out of the way.

The ship pulls away from the docks with a heavy groan, the creaking of wood and metal blending with the rhythmic churn of the frozen waters below. Snow begins to fall, fine and sharp, as the Remorhaz picks up speed, carving a path through the ice like a predator slicing through prey. The players can feel the steady hum of the engine vibrating through the hull, a constant reminder that they’re heading deeper into the unforgiving wilderness.

The silence is thick, broken only by the occasional shout from the deck above and the groaning of the ship as it cuts through patches of ice. They pass through vast stretches of open water, flanked by jagged, snow-covered cliffs that loom like silent sentinels over the icy expanse. A biting wind sweeps over the ship, carrying with it a sense of foreboding—each mile covered bringing them closer to Revel’s End.

Most of the people on board are guards—grizzled men and women wearing thick, dark woolen cloaks with metal fastenings and furs lining the collars. They look hardened, with cold stares and quick, suspicious glances at anyone who lingers nearby. Their belts carry short swords and daggers, and each has a small silver badge pinned to their chest, bearing the sigil of Revel's End. Many of them speak in low voices, swapping stories of brutal winters and the things they've seen in the cold, stark lands of Icewind Dale. Some sip from flasks of something strong enough to burn away the chill, casting distrustful glances at anyone unfamiliar.

Two cooks move among the passengers, their arms burdened with crates of provisions and barrels of salted fish. Their faces are ruddy, with patches of frost clinging to their beards and eyelashes, as if they’ve spent years weathering Icewind Dale’s harsh winters. They’re talkative, sharing complaints about the quality of rations and grumbling over the hours of labor that lie ahead. One of the cooks—a lanky figure with a thick woolen scarf wrapped high over his face—occasionally casts curious glances at the guards but keeps his mouth shut whenever one of them looks his way.

Meanwhile, tucked into a dark corner of the cargo hold, a crate sits motionless among the supplies—but within it, one of the players lies hidden, carefully packed between burlap sacks of dried provisions. Small slits in the crate’s wooden sides let them catch brief glimpses of the dimly lit hold and the shuffle of boots on the floor outside. Every creak and sway of the ship jostles them slightly, and the cold air seeps through the thin walls of the crate, making each breath a visible puff of mist in the cramped space. Occasionally, they hear snippets of muffled conversation from nearby guards and the crunch of footsteps as someone passes by.

It’s uncomfortable, to say the least, but it keeps them well out of sight. Each groan of the ship feels like it might give them away, yet for now, they remain hidden—an invisible shadow in the dim underbelly of the Remorhaz, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Jaeha Saelurn

Jae heard the order to stay out of the way, and instead of taking it to heart, threw it off the ship so to speak. Instead what she does is wonder about the ship, trying to eavesdrop on the guards under the pretense of having too much energy, and occasionally bumping into guards 'accidentally' and scurrying away after profuse and 'heartfelt' apologies when she feels her presence is no longer wanted. 

At night, she will gather her companions in their sleeping quarters, and will invite any other sailors to join, as she prepares salads each night from a veritable garden of vegetables she stores in her satchel. In fact, when they were loading the ship, one of the sailors failed to pick up the bag it was so heavy. How the four foot, seventy-five pound Harengon manages to do it remains a mystery. "The food here is so unhealthy" she remarks when asked about the salads "We all should try to keep our bodies strong and healthy for the challenges ahead"

In addition, sometimes she will wander over to the crate Qen (she shortens everyones name, for some odd reason) is in, and will pull out a small notebook, using the pretense of journaling in private to engage her friend in conversation and help pass the time. And oh does it take time, as Jae has something to say about nearly every subject, and could probably talk for days on end if not interrupted.

NOTES

Deception check to eavesdrop, in case you want it: 4

Finnigan starts the journey in the shadows, staying out of everyone’s way. He watches the mannerisms and behaviors of the other cooks. Pretty soon Finn starts just making passing comments to the other cooks, “Ugh these rations are only suited for the rats”, “Can you imagine the work we will be doing, they aren’t paying us enough for this”, “I hope these guards don’t expect to eat like kings, not with these supplies” he hopes to soon become ingratiated with them and for them to see him briefly but enough in passing that they recognize him as one of their own. He also helps them with their own meals by adding spices from his spice pouch.
Periodically while the guards are distracted, he attempts to pickpocket them with his invisible mage hand to see if they have anything useful for the heist ahead.

Persuasion for cooks: 15
Stealth: dirty 25 
Sleight of hand: 11