I think you’ll be in for a shock, my friend. These ships do indeed fly. They’re held aloft by magic crystals called...broom stones? Brumestone, maybe. I understand the very basics of it, but how to make them is a closely guarded secret. Someday I’d like to build one.  Come. I’ll show you.

Arael sits and smiles openly, trying to put the nervous female tiefling at ease.

I'm new in town and a friend of mine told me there was a noble looking to hire persons of talent for the odd job here and there. She didn't have much to go on, just rumor. I was hoping you fine folk would have heard something about them? I prefer to earn my living honestly, but I don't like putting myself in unnecessary danger either. I'm sure you both understand.

At the herbalist's:

Splendid, the woman says.  And, do take care, young man.  You are running with dangerous folk, and that's all I'll say on the matter.  If your plans allow for it, I'm always happy to chat to someone about the craft.  She gives what appears to be a sincere smile to you as you leave.

Outside, the waterfront remains busy and lively; what would Keyo like to do?

At the tavern:

Sounds like Lord Rymmer to me, the male tiefling replies.  He runs the auction house up on the Gilded Esplanade.  You don't want to be caught there, they don't like us poor folk wandering around. 

As we found out recently, says the other.  Lucky we run so fast, eh?  And are good at scaling sheer walls. She grins at the memory.  I'm Sorr, by the way, this fool is Jelt.  And you are?

At the skyport:

Silent and Pockets, you stand in the street, staring up at the skyport above you; you're not alone, there are a few others, clearly tourists, doing the same.  Above you stands a tall spire, decorated with beautiful designs of birds, clouds and fantastical flying creatures.  The skyport itself is impressive and well worth the visit.  Some of the depictions are of skyships, and Silent you are able to see the magical airborne vessels for the first time.  Sadly, there are no ships currently docked at the Skyport; Pockets, as a local you have seen skyships directly and know that they are not so frequent, perhaps one or two a week visit the spire.  Wildemount remains remote for much of the rest of Exandria, and this port is much less used than those in the other continents, or so you have heard.

A young dwarf is wandering by, selling small wooden carvings of the spire and skyships, for five coppers each.

Name is Silver, Pleasure to meet you both. She lowers her voice and head conspiratorially,  Lord Rymmer, sounds like the name of a pompous ass if I'd ever heard one. So, he auctions off what he buys? Most nobles I've run into prefer to display their goods instead of selling them off. What makes him different, do you think?

At the tavern:

Don't know much about him, Silver, Jelt says.  He pays for weird stuff, keeps the best stuff for himself, sells off the rest to the highest bidder.  He wouldn't deal with the likes of us, I reckon.  You neither, if you'll pardon me for saying so, but if you're here drinking with us, you're not the type he'd care about.  Plenty of nobles with weird collection maybe, but he's kind of known for it, so he's who I thought of what you said about it.  If you catch my drift.  

It'll take a lot more than stating the obvious to offend me, friend. No worries there. I appreciate the information, a name is more than I had starting this conversation, so I think I came out ahead.

You said something about sheer walls, he keeps his collections well guarded then?

Silent cranes his neck up at the spire taking in the scenery, his eyes squinted tight against the sun. You weren't kidding - this is really something! Straight out of a fairy tale. He turns back to Pockets. Can't blame you for wanting to build one of them. That's a big dream but a worthy one. 

Noticing the dwarf selling trinkets, Silent says Hoy there, friend. Two of your ships - one for me and one for my comrade here. He tosses them a silver piece for the two carvings and hands one to Pockets.  

At the tavern:

Dunno.  Didn't get that far.  Damn Zhelezo bastards!

Now, we're not the folks to be talking to about that, mind.  We're independent traderrs and adventurers now.  None of this thieving that... well, I hear folks get up to, not that we'd know anything about it.  Right, Jelt?  Jelt nods emphatically.  You too, right?  she asks you.

At the skyport:

Here you go, sir.  The dwarf looks pleased, and pockets the money before bustling on to the next group of tourists.

(You each now have a small wooden Port Damali Skyport souvenir, which you can add to your equipment in the 'other possession' tab.)

The skyport wasn't too far into the city, but you've not much time left before you're due back at the ship...

Pockets smiles at the gift. Thank you. I had something like this once, when I was younger. He sort of trails off for a second. We should head back. It’s almost sundown.

Arael gasps, seemingly shocked, but maybe overplaying her shock a bit, clearly not actually offended. 

Of course not! My only concern was that if an object of power was delivered to this Rymmer, it would be safe from any thieves or ne'er-do-wells. 

(OOC: Do I know Zhelelos?)

Arael looks around and notices the darkening of the sky through the doorway. She finishes her ale.

Thank you both for your time and the very valuable information. Keep yourselves safe, and perhaps our paths will cross again.

Keyo, uncertain of where his friends would be at, would return to the ship.

Pockets and Silent head back to the ship, their souvenirs safely stored away, carrying four strange bubble devices.

Keyo heads in that direction too, healing potions in his pack.

Arael, you know that the Zhelezo are the police force in most cities in the Menagerie Coast, Port Damali included.  You can make a History check to see if you've picked up any more information about them.   The two tieflings nod and say goodbye, but they resume their previous intense conversation before you've even left the building.

Back at the docks, at the gangplank, Three Earrings looks down at you all as you gather.  Good.  On time is good.  Get up here, we're setting sail.  Don't get left behind, sweet ones.  You walk up the gangplank and the ship starts to move.  The refugees are gone, and you see some sign that the ships supplies have been restocked, and a little superficial damage has been tended to.  

You are free to catch up with each other, and inspect and share what you have bought or otherwise obtained.  It's late afternoon; you've a few hours before darkness.  The crew bustle around you, but seem friendlier and more chatty with the refugees, and the shock of the fight at Palma Flora, now firmly in the past.

History: 18

Arael meets up with her fellow companions, smiling.

And how were everyone's adventures this afternoon?

We have some helmets to help us breathe underwater. Pockets shows Arael the bubble helmets.

Dunno about you guys but I reckon we've got some stuff to talk about. Silent glances over his shoulder at the sailors and refugees on ship. Alone.  

There are no more refugees; they all got off at Port Damali.  You can find a space on deck where you won't be overheard; it's a small ship but also a small crew, and fairly easy to keep tabs on where they are.

Arael, you know that the Zhelezo are the enforcers of the Clovis Concord, the authorities of the Menagerie Coast.  They have a decent reputation, though of course the nobles and leaders of each city get favourable treatment.

With sufficient time to look over the bubble devices, you can easily understand their nature and function; they are breathing bubbles.  And you have four vials, each a potion of healing of the common variety. 

Arael leans back, elbows on the ship's ledge.

So, that collector, his name is Lord Rymmer, seems like your standard-issue-noble. His place is well guarded, he's in with the local police, the Zehelo. You boys may have been right to be a little paranoid though, he likes to auction off some of his collectibles. This trinket we're after may end up back in the world and not behind some glass case after all.  

Silent sighs heavily. Nine hells, I was hoping I'd be wrong about him and it'd be safe in his hands. I don't want to come to blows with our dear Captain, just the mention of her is enough to make folks wet themselves. 

You should've seen the poor bloke who gave us those helmets - seemed to think he'd be dead if he rubbed us the wrong way, told us in no uncertain terms not to cross her. That kind of fear is well-earned. 

It’s the kind of reputation the Revelry have in this part of the world. They’re an association of pirates that operate along the coast.  No guarantee she’s one of them, but if I had to guess how she came by her reputation...that’s how.

Wait, Arael, did you say Rymmer? 

Arael turns to Pockets,

Yeah, Lord Rymmer. He apparently holds business up in the Esplanade... of something or other. She shrugs. Seems like a pompous ******* with pockets deep enough to buy off the local cops. He recently got robbed though, so trying to steal it back from him after the delivery is going to be hard. He'll have extra security for a while.

(OOC: Do I know of the Revelry?)