The boatman seems to wear a permanent scowl, with one squinting eye and the other unnaturally bulging. He clenches a battered pipe between his teeth, making it difficult to understand his angry, mumbled speech that follows your approach.

"I know that, damn it, why y' think I brough th' boat! Y' couldn' make it more obvious if y' tries, walk'n' all up and down, cast'n yer eyes t'ward the island," he grumbles.

His squinting eye looks you and your mounts up and down. "There's a lot o' you," he observes. "It ain't a good idea for to be trav'lin' to that island, but if y' wanna buy me, it's a gold piece a head and a silver piece f'r each mount, pet, or livestock. I think y'll all fit."

"O' course, y' can always swim th' distance, iffen y' wanna be dead against the rocks," he chuckles at anyone that bats an eyelid at his price.

It seemed a gold coin for ferry was the standard price for the ride, and Ola certainly was not about to haggle anyway. She nodded, payed for herself (her horse, the mule and the body - without explaining what is it, just as for the "very loaded mule") and was the first one to step on the boat.

Sylyra follows, not complaining this time, paying for himself and his horse. He watches the others to see if anyone balks at the price.

Eonis pays, hardly skilled at haggling and knowing the ferryman has no completion for his services in the region.

Arnald glares at the man but pays the fare for himself and his horse.

Uragum fishes out the coin for himself and the horse as well.  He frowns at the man and maneuvers over to look at the man's back checking for any odd protrusions there.  He pulls out a another gold and says, "Another gold if ya will show me your wings."

Eonis mouths "Wings?" with an implied question mark, as she raises an eyebrow above her one good eye to the others, unclear on the question, but does not make it any more awkward by asking for clarification aloud, as she loads her gear and her mount onto the ferry.  

Sylyra rolls his eyes. Wizards were supposed to be smart.

"Don't ask," shook her head Ola. But she was busy enough to watch over two animals, and did not elaborate any further. 

OOC: Subtracted 1 gp and 2 sp from Arnald, Eonis, Sylyra and Uragum's inventories, and 1 gp and 4 sp from Ola's inventory.

The boatman squints/bulges at Uragum for at least fifteen seconds before collecting his coin. He says nothing, but mumbles frequently as he looses the rope and prepares the boat, clenching the rod between his teeth all the while. Though the island appears only six hundred feet from the shore, it quickly becomes evident that swimming the distance would be a fool's errand. The horses come very close to tumbling from the force of the currents on a few occasions, and the rope is surely the only thing keeping the boat from spinning out of control into the open sea.

Nevertheless, the boat and all its passengers arrive at the small island in one piece. The old boatman ties it down to the slightly sheltered portion of the northwestern side of the island that it carries you to. He is far from the only man here, as four other humans, deeply tanned from the sun, work at their own boats, maintaining nets and oars. The ferry and several oar-powered or small-masted fishing boats are drug several feet up shore and tied down.

Further ahead, there is a small shed beneath a line of trees on a wooded hill that blocks your view of the island further in.

"Thank you," Ola nodded to the man, stepped of the ferry and guiding the horse and the mule to the shores. There she turned back to the ferry man and asked: "You were not surprised to see our group. And never asked why do we want to get to the island. Do you often have visitors here? So much so that the armed group does not warrant a question?"

Eonis does her best to keep her horse calm during the ride, then works to slowly coax it from the ferry, as she prepares to depart. She waits to hear the ferry man’s answer to Ola’s question, as it might reveal more about what awaits them. 

"I supposed to be surprised?" the boatman grumbles as he ties down the boat. "What you think we savages, ain't never trade wit' the open world?" He waves away the thought angrily, as if Ola had actually suggested it. "I tell y' it ain't a good idea to come here, but y' paid me anyway, so don't y' come holler at me when you realize there ain't nothin' t' see and ain't nothin' t' do," he says.

Area Description:

The ferry and several oar-powered or small-masted fishing boats are drug several feet up shore and tied down.

Further ahead, there is a small shed beneath a line of trees on a wooded hill that blocks your view of the island further in.

Ola listened that tirade with calm expression, letting the man to get all the seat out. "I think you are a very isolated place - it was not easy to learn about your existence. And people here might be in a serious danger." She looked at the man very seriously (if it was possible) "This is why we came - if we are right, there will be an attack this night. You can hide and hope our force is enough to repel the attackers, but if you cherish you life, and life of those who live here - evacuate for this night and wait on the mainland until morning."

Sylyra steps forward. "We understand you have someone here raving about a dracolich. We have reason to think the seemingly random attacks on neighboring communities and farms may be related. Any information you can give us may help us protect this ... island."

Uragum frowned the whole ride over, occasionally glancing at the the fairyman's back.  Still, he kept his mouth shut this time.  Or mostly shut, as he tried his best to hold and calm the horses through the rocking of the ship.  After landing, he helped get the horses to shore while the others talked to the ferryman.  Uragum would lend his presence but he was already looking around trying to take stock of the terrain and dock that he can see.

"Yes, what my companions say is accurate," Eonis adds.  "We are investigating rumors of attacks on villages and our investigation has led us here.  Have you heard of any troubling incidents or rumors here?"  

The old man snorts at Ola's suggestion of evacuating. "Ain't no evacuating now. An angry storm is coming. Shore folk's ignant, someday the sea will claim its due and wash them all into its depths," he says, taking a hard look at the party. After a few seconds of silence, he continues, "But not today, probly. Either way, you'll have t' stay until it passes, sea's got t' be calm for a boatload of you all again."

True to his word, the wind has picked up since your arrival, and the waves begin to crash harder upon the shore, though only slightly.

He largely ignores everything else, but stirs again at Sylyra's mention of a dracolich. "We got a madman up yonder, talks the 'eye of the dracolich' or some such nonsense. He with you?"

"Not with us," Sylyra corrects, "but he may be able to provide some information. Do you know anything about him? Who he is or where he came from? How did he get to the island?"

"Nope, weren't here when he washed ashore. Seems clear t' me what's wrong with 'im though, his mind broke. Snapped, at seein' someth'n' it couldn't handle. Ain't nobody wand'rin' the wilderness for long in that 'nsanity," the boatman grumbles. The knots completed, he brushes off his hands, finally takes the battered pipe from between his teeth, and wanders off toward the shed near the hillside.