Gerrard:

”Of course, let us take this conversation elsewhere,” says Gerrard, getting up and following the troubled guards out of the tavern.  After their exit, Gerrard looks at Qivys and asks, “What’s going on here, Master Qivys?”  Looking at the guards, he adds, “And who is this ‘They’ you speak of, who have just arrived?”

The guards are more than happy to leave the tavern. The elder guard explains, quietly, "A ship came last night that looks like th' one we been waiting for. It anchored offshore that damned house. Earlier than we figured. They must've spotted our boat, 'cause then they weighed anchor and ran. We been looking for you all day. We figure they'll be back tonight after the moon sets. Where's the other dwarf and the halfling? You guys gotta go. Like now. Butter cain't go 'cause of his fingers, so Fossie here will sail ye' out." Fossie, the young cross-eyed guard with tusk-like teeth, nods vigorously. "She ain't fighting though – it's up to you guys to grab these smugglers and take th' boat."

Peri:

By the time Peri rousts himself from his comfortable bed -- no ship's bell to enforce an early rise -- and makes his way down to the tavern, his companions have dispersed for the day.  Well enough, they surely haven't gone after that cavern and left me abed.  He eats a prodigious breakfast, then rests on the porch of the inn, comfortably round-bellied.  He smokes on his pipe a bit while reading a few more pages of the Flower book.  Remembering his new spear, he makes his way back to his room and begins running through the exercises he learned at the monastery, distressed to learn how rusty he'd become after using only the shortsword for so long.  He resolves to put in some practice each day, then breaks for lunch.  He chats a bit with the patrons, asking after the rumored escaped prisoner. 

After that, he'll go out behind the inn (assuming there are stables?) where there's more room to practice, and begin more serious training with the new spear.  Still a bit put-off that his strikes lack the precision he learned in the monastery, he is nevertheless delighted with how sharp and crisp the spear responds.  If tomorrow's Market Day, maybe I'll try to find some yarn to make some tassels like the monks used to decorate their weapons.  Of course, in this town everything's like to be gray and brown.  Truly is a dreary place, and not just on account o' the weather.  Beset on all sides, plague in the hostel, strange happenings all around, and not a decent pastry to be had for love nor money.  Speakin' o' love, where's the girls in this town?  Port town oughtta have girls, even if they're ugly.  Seems a shame, a charmin' fellow like me sleepin' alone every night.  Remember that half-orc lass in Innsmouth? Tall and gruff, but when ya got 'er to laughin', she'd..." Mind wandering, he nearly skewers his foot with his shiny new sticker.  All right, boyo, that's enough for one day.  Maybe grab a pint and try to track down the lads.  Check at Winston's first; haven't been there yet, after all.

((He'll go inside with the intention of ordering a drink, making himself easy to find.))

((I was typing that while you were making your last post, and now I have a cross-eyed half-orc lass in the group.  See if Peri can't get her to laugh?))

Peri reads a long boring chapter about thistles, practices a bit, and chats up Lankus for awhile, there being no other patrons this morning. Lankus had heard a rumor it was a liquor smuggler who escaped; some guy had been importing a significant amount of booze without paying tariffs. Lankus rambles on a bit about how he heard that the Guard has a special underground anti-magic cell just for wizards under the barracks.

As the rainy morning progresses to a dreary afternoon, Peri wanders across town to Winston's, only to learn that he'd just missed Qivys and Peri. Winston has a bizarre collection of bejeweled skulls, a lot of oils, some cheap quality knives, and - to Peri's great delight - some high-quality pipeweed, which he hasn't been able to find elsewhere in this town.

Peri returns to the ancient tavern to await his friends.

Gerrard:

"Master Fenwader is likely still in or near the Wicker Goat, but we have been searching all day for Master Fiercehammer with no luck," Gerrard replies to the older guard.  Turning to Qivys, Gerrad, says, "Any other ideas where else we should look for our absent friend?"

Qivys

Exiting the inn Qiv pipes up in answer to Gerrard's question "If I know that dwarf, and I like to thin I do, he'll be at our magnificent HQ. Well, soon to be magnificent. He's fallen in love with that crab infested place. Sorta can't blame the man though. 'e seems like a "keep to yaself" type and privacy is hard to come by in this town, so a HQ of our own makes sense." Having finished his assesment of Dwals recent desired he adds " Better hurry to the coast if these baffoons are to be obeyed. Still don't know if the others even want to take on the smugglers" 

"We got a boat ready for ye' at the wharf behind Council Hall," says the older guard to Qivys and Gerrard. "Fossie here'll pilot it. I'll go t' the Goat to look fer your halfling friend. Fossie'll check Crabbers Cove for yer other dwarf. Moonset should be just after midnight, and it'll take at least an hour t' tack yer way up there in this breeze, so ye' got maybe three hours t' grab anything ye' need."

Unless you have further conversation, they depart and do as they said.

The old, thin-faced woman looking for Peri, first in the taproom of the Goat. When she finds him, she instructs, "Time t' go, little one. Yer friends are waiting for ye' down behind Council Hall – the loud dwarf and an' the purple-headed chap. Yer boat's here. Time t' go."

Fossie nervously explores Crabber's Cove for Dwal in the fading twilight. She delicately holds off the crabs with her baton. When she finds him, she asks "What are you doing here? S'pposed t' be ghosts down here! Anyway your friends need you. They're behind Council Hall. Do ye' know where that is? I'm supposed to take ye' on a boat."

Peri:

"My boat?" he asks, then catches her meaning. He gives a grim nod and says, "Very well, then. Lemme grab my things and I'll be along in a minute."

He goes to his room and empties his pack of any unnecessary items, only taking his weapons, rope, grappling hook, candles, string, oil, and torches. Then he locks up his room and follows the guard to the council hall.

Gerrard:

”Do you think the smugglers are in league with the Sea Princes?” asks Gerrard, considering the obsession his father has with building up the military to defeat them.  “I’ll certainly help against smugglers—a city can’t function if it can’t enforce its laws on all citizens equally, and that includes import duties.”

Gerrard heads back to his room to drop off the recent payments and valuable or bulky items, planning to travel light for a seaborne assault.  He then heads to the boat, excited to embark on another adventure!

Dwal

A bit amused at the "haunted' reference Dwal will put his tools away and say

"Aye, I know where it is. I'll be on me way there shortly." he tells her.

Dwal takes the time to clean off his tools a bit and then himself. He puts on his vest and heads to his room. Once he gets there he cleans up quickly, he does a quick check of his armor, weapons and gear, saying a quick prayer to the War God over them then suits up. He will make his way to the Council Hall to meet up with the group. 

"I hate the Sea." he mutters to himself. "not a sensible thing for a dwarf to be doing, going on boat rides and the like. Hills and mountains are where we should be." 

Dwal will meet up with the others and greet them with a nod then ask "So, they been spotted have they?" he asks. 

Gerrard:

As the dwarf approaches, Gerrard breaks into a smile and says, “You are a difficult dwarf to track down, Brother Fiercehammer.  Yes, it appears the smuggling ship has been sighted, though we have little additional information as of yet.”

A small fishing boat awaits you, tied up to the wharf in the deep harbor behind Council Hall. It's barely more than a skiff, with a grey and greasy-looking sail, and a hull badly in need of new caulking and paint. Its capacity is about seven, maximum. It smells very strongly of old fish. Fossie is sitting aboard, spitting into the oily water of the harbor. "Ye' ready?" she asks, brightly.

Dwal

"I'm easy enough to find." Dwal says. "I was doing some work on the places we leased from the Council. Once we get it finished we won't be sleeping in these hovels and beholden to anyone but ourselves.'

Dwal takes his time getting into the boat. His displeasure with boats and sea in general is evident.

Gerrard:

Joining the others on the boat, Gerrard seems eager to get going, saying, “Yes, let’s be off.”

To Dwal, he says, “That makes sense, Master Fiercehammer;  my tour of the town did not include that location this time around—we’ll have to remedy that tomorrow.  In any case, I learned that the general store proprietor, Master Winston, was expecting that map we found.  We have already delivered the clothing and dice in the package, so completing the delivery will earn us a reward.”

Peri:

Peri arrives at the dock in time to see Dwal stepping gingerly into the boat. "If ever there was a time for magical fish armor, now would be it. We may be swimmin' ere dawn." Looking over his companions, he shakes his head. "So, I guess you've decided we're going on this ill-conceived mission for a few coins, eh? We could at least make an attempt at a plan before shovin' off. Anyone have a signal lantern? And maybe we can borrow a medical kit from the guards, since they'll all be stayin' safely outta harm's way?"

Gerrard:

Digging in his pack, Gerrard produces a lamp for Peri, saying, “I do have a lamp Master Fenwader, but it is simple—not a nautical signal lamp.  I also have a healer’s kit,” he adds, patting a small pouch at his waist.

Peri:

"That's one thing then.  And we may be able to jury-rig a signal lamp.  But what's the plan after that?  How large is the ship? How many aboard her? If by some miracle we do take her, who'll crew her into port?" Rounding on the guards, "Can any of you at least give a description of the ship? I could at least come up with a minimum and maximum crew size for 'er!"

(If the guards can give a basic description of the ship -- number of masts, mast height, general size, etc. -- Peri would be able to make a fair estimate of the minimum crew needed to run the ship, and some idea of the maximum number of crew that would still allow for some cargo space for smuggling.)

Dwal

"You're full of questions now ain't ya." Dwal says. "If ye want safe bets play with loaded dice."  he says gruffly. "If they knew all that we'd not be the ones doing this, especially with only 4 of us, or 3 and a halfling." Dwal smiles slyly.

"Get yer arse in the boat." Dwal says. "We can talk about all yer little questions along the way. As fer a plan, I say we don't capture but sink the bastard and be done with it."

The only guard here now is Fossie, who has been assigned to pilot your little vessel, named "Stone" 

"I ain't seen it myself. They said it was a one-master, but big – maybe 80 or 90 foot. Gotta crow's nest, they said. Probably got a crew of 6 or 10, maybe. I dunno," she answers. "I ain't boardin' it. Did I say that already? I'll stay with Stone."

"By the way, I'll need somebody to help me bail – we gotta little leaky bit over here I still gotta caulk."

 It's very dark, and the harbor is quiet. The water is neither calm nor particularly rough, and there is a cold breeze from the southeast.

Gerrard:

It’s not that Gerrard is unwilling to help with the bailing—it seems he just assumes someone else will do it and it doesn’t occur to him that he should help with such a menial task...Leaning forward and facing into the salty sea breeze, Gerrard says, “It would be a shame to sink her if we don’t have to.  If we neutralize everyone on board, do you think you could sail the ship into port towing the Stone, Fossie?”