Quote from Sidewinder51 >>

Vaclav holds up the dagger to Nos. "All I can tell is that it's magic. Strange that there's not a specific type. I'd be careful with it, just in case." 

(Any chance Vaclav knows the dragon symbol? History: 24)

Vaclav is aware of only one dragon symbol in this region.  It's the family crest of the Ruby house of the Head of Ursum.  They are a powerful major house; one of the five remaining major houses in the continent.

Quote from badbovine >>

After discovering Longshanks in the cage, Ralfi reverts to human form, collapsing exhausted upon the deck. Firstly, he will feed the ill tempered hare (and the all of the starving prisoners) with rations onboard the ship, all the while cursing the dead captain. Secondly...Ralfi is going to inspect the lantern. Does he discover anything of its abilities?

 After spending an hour with the lantern, Ralfi is able to determine that it:

1. Gives off the same light as a normal lantern.
2. Is not hot to touch at all.
3. Does not appear to be burning any fuel.
4. Has a hood and a shutter so it can be adjusted to give off no light, a beam of light or full torch light.

Showing it to Vaclav (Arcana 18) he is able to tell you it appears to be a simple Continual Flame incantation housed in a lantern.

Quote from Krivoi_Rog >>

"I'd like t' test this dagger on ol' Scraggs 'ere, anybody mind?" Nos Heliwr asks in a cheerful manner as he grins at Scraggs.

Intimidation   4

He thumbs the dagger, "I don' wanna be one fer lettin' this piece o' charmin' dung-gas go a' keep doin' the things he's bound t' do to any in his power."  He walks over to Scraggs and rests the blade against his throat.  "Any last words scumbag?" He growls.

Scraggs is not easily intimidated.  He's a big burly man whose anger and seething hatred of the world seem to give him some sort of invulnerable shield to such things.  He spits on the deck when shown the dagger.  "That's mine you scurvy dog.  Give it back!" He strains at his bonds to get to Nos Heliwr.  He must really like that blade.

 Vaclav shakes his head and walks over to Scraggs. "You've got to learn you're not in charge anymore. Now, tell the man what he wants to know." He then folds his hands so that he's again holding the ball of fire. This time instead of releasing it he holds it up to Scraggs arm, just so that it's close enough to hurt but not enough to catch him on fire yet. 

Scraggs turns his attention on the young noble and scowls.  "He's not asked me any questions, scurvy dog!  What am I supposed to answer?!"  Though his eyes turn to the flames jumping and winding in Vaclav's hands and you detect the briefest hint of fear behind the bravado.

Vaclav shakes his head again. "He did, he asked what you're last words were. I have a different question however. Who's waiting for you at the port with your illegal goods?" 

Scraggs looks up at Vaclav with defiance.  But then his eyes flick to Claire who's stood nearby twirling her glaive menacingly; to Nos Heliwr who's picking imagined dirt out of his fingernails with Scragg's dagger; to Salazar with his strange arcane tattoos writhing over his half-bare arms and to Ralfi, looking small and urchin-like, petting a ragtag hare, but who Scraggs was sure he saw transform into a terrible bear earlier.  You see the old first mate's spirit finally broken and his eyes drop to the deck beneath him.

"Varnell," he answers quietly. "His name's Varnell.  Big man with a missing eye is all the description I have.  I never seen him before - this is our first trip this far around the north end of Ibini. But he'll be expecting us."

 "There, that wasn't so hard. So what would happen if your crew shows up without a Captain, complaining of a slave revolt?" He casually brings the fire up in front of Scraggs's face. 

"Shows up where?" he asks, shrinking back from the flames, all spirit apparently broken.

Vaclav shakes his head. "I'm disappointed in you Scraggs, I thought you were only slightly dumber than you look. Clearly I was wrong. If they show up to meet Varnell of course. You don't think we're foolish enough to just sail off with the ship do you? The Guild's a little to jealous for that." 

"Varnell is not part of the Guild.  He works for a local figure.  No idea of the significance of the man or who he works for.  I just know they aren't Guild members.   The Guild doesn't have much presence out this way.  We'll probably be the first ship which has docked here this Spring.  There will be a lot of demand for our more standard cargo and we'd be picking up goods they produce here abouts.  I'm not the clever one on board, you've already figured out, so I have no idea what we're selling, nor what we're picking up, "Scraggs tells you.

"So, anyway, if you were to turn up with a crew and no captain, I don't suppose anyone around here would know what they meant or really care.  This is the eastern side of Northern Ibini.  It's as far away from Cansae and the Trade Lords as you can get.  The nearest Guild centre is all the way across at Dun Laren in Manabas which is over a week of sailing away.  In short:  no one here cares."

Nos Heliwr makes light, shaving motions along Scragg's neck, "What, prithy, ken ye tells me o' the pretty piece o' steel?" He asks in a very polite tone of voice.

(Claire would of course express an interest in the glaive if it was shown to her.)

Watching the "negotiations" with a bit of disinterested impatience, Claire leaves it to the men, having made her opinion about taking this ship or its contents anywhere fairly clear.  Instead, she approaches the crew.  "How long would it be before we reached the next port?  And which one of you is feeling lucky enough to take command of this ship as its new captain, once you do as we ask and drop us off where we want to be left?"  She swings her glaive over her shoulders and drapes her arms over it casually. "And I hope you'll be taking on and training a few of your former prisoners as equal partners on this ship if they ask for it.  You may not have been as cruel as the slavers, but silent complicity is still complicity.  You do owe it to those people to make reparations." 

Once she's felt she's received what was a satisfactory answer from the rest of the crew, she goes below deck, to one of the only figures left in chains on the ship.  Burt, her old friend.  A smile spreads across her face as she sees him in chains, and she appreciates his flinch as she strides directly up to him.  Whirling her glaive around, she holds it up over her head, as though to strike.  "You treated me very kindly indeed while I was a prisoner here," she says to him, glaive pointing down menacingly.  "I do owe you for that, don't I?  Debts are such a terrible thing to be left unpaid."

A moment later, the glaive descends, thunking solidly into the wood between his sprawled legs, mere centimeters away from dashing any of his hopes for a future generation.  "My gift to you is enlightenment.  There is more than one way to be kind to a woman.  Think about your manners before you attempt to share this sort of kindness with any other, lest you reap a more enthusiastic repayment than my own."  She pulls out the glaive, sending several sizable wooden splinters flying towards his crotch as she does so.  "Don't cross my path again if you know what's good for you," she says darkly, before turning to leave in a huff.

Scraggs looks away from Vaclav to Nos Heliwr.  "It was a present..." he looks down almost embarrassed and then sighs deeply.  "From me mam," he continues lamely.  "She said it would keep me safe if ever I fell overboard.   Never have so I guess it worked."

The first mate looks back and forth between the two of Nos Heliwr and Vaclav and almost pleads.  "Just get it over with, will you?"

The lacquered chest which contains the broken glaive is inlaid with velvet and cushioned to protect the contents.  It contains three pieces:  2 parts of a broken wooden haft and a blade head.  The blade head, whilst not sparkling and razor-sharp, does not appear to be in bad condition.  It shows no signs of rust or pitting.  The hafts are a strange composition.  Where normally you would expect it to be made of wood, this appears to be some sort of metallic-wood composite.  It's snapped in half.  Closer examination of the haft shows it to be carved with engravings of rampant bears and towering mountains.  The blade also seems to have very subtle runes carved into it.

"Well, les jest see if yer Ma were right," Nos Heliwr says as he begins dragging Scraggs to the larboard side of the ship.  "If'n she were right ye'll sink now that ye dinna 'ave the blade, no?"  With an implacable expression he heaves Scraggs up onto the railing and tosses him into the restless sea.  "I'll be meetin' ye in Hell one day, 'n then we ken continue this discussion."

He turns to the others and says, "He'da done the same t' any o' us without e'en an eyeblink."

Vaclav looks unimpressed. "Should have weighed him down first. Now he can just swim away if he gets loose and he'll float for a while even if he doesn't." 

Indeed, looking over the rail you can just make out  a bedraggled figure making its way slowly towards shore.  It’s a fairly calm night and the swell rolling in is gently aiding his efforts.