Dimma thinks for a moment, "Aye, in fact I could do the alterations myself. Back home I used to run the forge in service to Moradin, hand it over." She pauses, examining the size and weight of the jacket for a moment before continuing, "40 gold should cover it - and don't bother haggling - that's material cost only."
After everyone has gone their separate ways Dimma performs the artisan's blessing in her home to create the studded leather shortly before drifting off to sleep. In the morning she has the jacket wrapped up in a spare linen cloth tied together into a bundle with a length of twine. Just as she finishes she receives Skerrin's message and after checking to make sure the elf hasn't broken into her chambers prepares herself for another day of excitement.
She makes her way to the tavern where she knows the others are staying and greets everyone, finally holding out the parcel for Gib. "I didn't do any fancy tailor's work, so it'll still be too big for you around the arms, but it should offer you some meager amount of protection." She turns her attention now to Tul and nods, "I heard the old elf's message too. Best we don't keep him waiting-- Lord Anders, that is."
Hugh wake groggily to the sound of Skerrin’s voice. He gets up in a flash, swinging wildly with his fists around the empty room. “Get back here, ye bastard!” he murmurs obviously still recovering from the drinking of the night before. Hugh then looks around the room, realizing no one is in the room, he angrily stomps down the stairs to the common room of the tavern to meet the rest of the party. He then grabs a seat at the table while holding his head as he listens to what others have to say. If asked, Hugh would tell them annoyedly that yes, he heard to voice too.
Tul's happy that she's not the only one that heard the voice but then another thought pops in to her head.
"Do you think he can only project his thoughts to us?" Tul asks. "Or do you think he's capable of reading what's in our minds as well?"
She looks around at everyone. "Either way, I think he needs to be told how intrusive and unsettling his behaviour is. And now seems as good a time as any. If you're ready, let's go see what Anders and Skerrin have to say."
Tul heads to the door and out into the village to make her way to the council chambers if the others are ready.
Gibson enters the tavern looking nearly as rough as Hugh but with a distinct lack of stale alcohol stench. He nods wordlessly to the human and sits.
"Much obliged, Ms. Brazzik," he says quietly as he takes the parcel and begins unwrapping it. As he works, the group once again hears his voice in their heads as they did yesterday. "There are many ways to communicate wordlessly but this wrinkly, old killjoy's sheer range concerns me." As he stands and unfolds the jacket to look at it, he audibly says, "This particular method of mine is strictly one-way but who knows what tricks he has up his sleeve. And speaking of sleeves..." He dons the jacket with a flourish and a smile, the morning stupor quickly dissolving. "Folks of the cloth, such as myself you know, generally prefer the 'flowy' aesthetic for, uh...presentational purposes. Some of us," he somehow produces a small knife in one hand in the blink of an eye, "find utility in it." The knife is gone again.
He sits back down heavily. "Whoa. This thing's got some heft to it! I don't know how you armor-loving types do it... Well, if we're all in agreement, we'd better get a move on. Coffee and bacon are required and I'm afraid if Hughie doesn't get some quick he might start tearing arms off."
Notably, Arvastan doesn't appear at the tavern to join you all --nor is he waiting as you arrive at Solmor House, a modest complex of three buildings that exist on the edge of town. The largest of the three buildings is Lord Anders's personal home, while there also seems to be a separate space for servants' quarters and a small office building. A coterie of four guards dressed in Lord Anders colors of red and gold stand at attention in front of the house and bow as you approach.
You are ushered into a dining room, that in comparison to Primewater's massive banquet hall, seems spartan and economical -- though still well above the average Saltmarsher's means. There is a modest spread of pastries, coffee and tea, tropical fruits and sausage. Lord Anders springs up from his seat at the head of the table, where he was poking at a half-eaten biscuit and a banana. Skerrin, his elven retainer, sits beside him, with some sort of hefty volume. It seems as though you may have interrupted something as Skerrin slams the book shut as soon as he sees you.
"Welcome! I am so glad you came. I had though perhaps Councilor Primewater had persuaded you to not at least hear me out. These are dangerous times for Saltmarsh, and indeed for all of Keoland. Skerrin and I have just been discussing the matter, and it seems Saltmarsh needs you greatly. Reports from King Skotti suggest preparations for...something are taking place among the lizardfolk villages to the south of us. If the Sea Princes are providing them with weapons, then there really is only one conclusion. War is coming. King Skotti is unable to send troops given the current state of the war with Ulek and Bissel so we are on our own. I need help, from people I can trust. People who have proven themselves." He sighs, wiping his red-rimmed eyes. "I'm sorry it just has been so difficult lately...."
Skerrin speaks up, now, as the young Lord takes a big gulp of coffee to compose himself. "We are proposing that you use the instructions you uncovered at Dilpas Manor to intercept the Sea Ghost tomorrow evening, and seize the weapons the Sea Princes are trying to smuggle to the lizardfolk, the smugglers, and the ship itself if you are able. While you are engaged on this mission, Captain Fireborn will utilize the guards to fortify the town, under the threat of invasion. To give you all the greatest chance of success, his Lordship will call an emergency Council meeting for tomorrow night while you are on your mission, in hopes of...not allowing any potential traitors to let slip details of our plans."
Anders bobs his head. "Yes. I...regret having to call upon your good offices again so soon, but I hope you will consider helping. I have been through my accounts, and i can offer you 400 gold, the promise of more work, and..." he looks to Skerrin, who nods imperceptibly, "a seat on Council. The meeting tomorrow will allow me to add another seat. I have the votes from Fireborn and Manistrad Copperlocks. I had hoped to ask your friend, the sea elf, as he has an existing friendship with Eda and may prove less objectionable to her and Primewater, but I have heard from Skerrin here that Master Shark-Friend has no plans to get involved any further with the town's affairs. Regardless, though, I will ensure one of you have that seat -- especially if war is coming" He looks at you and spreads his hands wide. "Please say you'll help! I cannot think of any matter that could possibly be more serious." At this moment, the boy looks very much like the teenager he is.
Tul organizes her thoughts for a moment before speaking. Anders seems to speak from the heart but Skerrin is very precise and to the point. Whatever differences there are between Primewater and Anders are likely the work of Skerrin, she thinks to herself.
"No one in Saltmarsh will win if there is war. The Sea Princes seem fixated on short term profit at the expense of their long term success. But then I think that is why they are so dangerous and always have been. They are not logical in their thinking," Tul says. "I for one will attempt to stop them and their delivery of weapons."
She takes a step towards Anders and bows her head slightly.
"Always remember, Lord Anders," Tul begins "in the battle between a stone and water, the stone makes a big splash, but in time, the water always wins. Helping this town will not be one battle but a long steady series of ebbs and flows until true persistence leads to the inevitable."
"Well if this adventuring thing doesn't pan out, Tul, you've got a bright future ahead of you as a soothsayer! These sage little tidbits would be a fun addition, written on tiny scrolls, and thrown in when selling trinkets or baked goods. Perhaps you and Dimma could open a shop for cookies and fortunes!" Gibson smiles and puts a hand on Tul's shoulder before noting the look in her eye and removing it while hastily changing the subject.
"500 gold, you say? Sheesh... I've never worked for so little! Well, except for yesterday, I suppose. But this is a noble cause if ever there was one! I guess I could bring myself to work for such a meager pittance once more. But do keep in mind that our standard rates will apply going forward!"
Gibson looks back to the group. "I was never one for Dragonchess but all this maneuvering reminds me of back when my old man -- Cumian take him in their dark embrace -- tried to teach me to play the game. It's not that the Princes lack vision for the future and simply desire chaos, it's that they are trying to create chaos on this side of the border to distract and weaken the kingdom while they prepare whatever they're planning for their next step with no loss of their own." He sighs. "This is why I hate politics. Who would ever want this much responsibility?! It's so much easier to simply follow your own self interest and move on!"
Remembering that Skerrin and Anders are still there, staring at him after his tangent, his eyes snap back to Lord Solomor. "Now, if we're going to do this charity work for hardly any pay, I do think I must insist that we get what we in the business refer to as 'dibs' over any and all goods recovered from this mission! We'd be happy to donate anything that's left over to the watch's armory but we'll certainly need such an assurance in lieu of more appropriate pay. I can tell by your expression you think that's full well and fair so I'll only ask one more thing of the both of you: Since you are going through all the trouble of distracting any potential 'traitors' who may be among us, as you say, we'd be much obliged if you were to keep the matter of this mission to yourselves even after its conclusion. We appreciate your promise of future work but we must needs continue to make ourselves available to the other movers and shakers of Saltmarsh, regardless of their potential allegiances as long as they remain in good standing with the town. It would be no good at all if some of our potential job pool dried up prematurely and veiled animosities were leveled in our direction. Gibson's Glorious Go-Getters are here to do good and get paid, not to get involved with warring factions!"
Lord Anders bows stiffly to Tul. "Thank you for your wisdom. It is easy to forget in times like these, but this town could one day become truly great in a way not even King Skotti anticipates. I must learn patience. Skerrin tells me much the same thing."
He laughs delightedly at Gib. "What a way with words you have, Friend Lemonyellow. A few things. I think you will find the sum I offered is 400 gold, and unfortunately, I cannot guarantee you your pick of goods. The weapons of course will go to King Skotti's war efforts in the North. And should you come across any valuable clearly stolen property, Keoish law dictates it be returned. There...might be some latitude with some of this, but the weapons and ship MUST be turned over to the Crown. As far as keeping your role quiet, we shall do our best, but it may be difficult to guarantee one amongst you a seat on Council without some accounting of your deeds to the other members of Council. Captain Fireborn's vote is contingent upon the lot of you agreeing to intercept the Sea Ghost. You see, he already knows I am making this request. He is the only one, so far, though perhaps your friend the sea elf has already told Council Oweland."
Skerrin steps in smoothly. "There are numerous disagreements between his Lordship and Councilors Primewater and Oweland as you are no doubt aware. However, Eda Oweland certainly despises the Sea Princes as much as his Lordship, so I doubt very much publicizing your role in crippling their influence in Saltmarsh will overly harm your standing in town. As for Councilor Primewater, at least in public, he will make no move against you. "
Solmor scowls. "I doubt very much anyone could hate the Princes as much as I do, old friend. Every time I sleep, I see what they did to my mother. I will not rest until they are eliminated and their lands are burnt to the ground and salted. May I take it I have your word you will undertake this dangerous expedition on my behalf?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Gibson's expression darkens slowly and steadily as all this is said (mid-bite halfway through a pastry) but quickly perks back up at the question, smile already reinstated. "Am I to understand that there is absolutely no room for negotiation in this matter? My counteroffer? My petition for...'dibs'? My request for anonymity? I appreciate your offer of 'latitude' and we may just take you up on it, pending our findings, but I fear I must insist that you at the very least keep our identities amongst yourselves and the Loyalists. I'd hope that blasted elf has the good sense to keep his tongue in his head but that Prizewater fellow has hinted at having work for us in the future as well and Gib's Gregarious Galactophagists are not ones to pick sides when there's honest work to be done and coin to be earned!"
An eyebrow arches and Gibson's focus hones in on Anders. "Now... What is this about the Princes and your mother? An outsider hears tidbits here and there but if we're to throw in against the likes of that lot, I'd like to hear it from the source. There's plenty of versions of stories floating around, but what really happened?"
If Anders tells the tale, Gibson's going to keep a close eye on both him and Skerrin for any indication of deceit or reactions to anything that's said. Eyes flitting around/refusal to make eye contact, body language, tone, etc.
Tul listens to Gibson's indignation about negotiations and counteroffers. She smiles to herself. She would have to remember to explain to Gib that the only items Anders and Skerrin know about for sure are the weapons. Anything else on that ship may or may not be there. Perhaps there was still a little of her old self still hiding out deep inside.
Lord Anders sighs and looks to Skerrin at Gib's comments, but the elf makes no move to step in. Blinking as though he had been slapped, the boy says "It is not my intention at all to make this task seem unpleasant, Mr. Lemonyellow. I thought you might leap at the chance to further solidify your position in town. If you wish that only myself, Skerrin, Captain Fireborn and Manistrad are the only ones that know of you undertaking this mission, I will...do my best to honor your wishes. But you're making it a damned sight harder to ensure you are placed on Council." He complains, pouting.
Skerrin looks at you all carefully. "I would be careful what work I accept from Councilor Primewater if I were in your position. The man's legitimate businesses seem to be struggling and I think perhaps he may find himself to be rather...overextended. Payment through his Lordship on the other hand, is always a sure thing."
As Gib asks about his mother, Lord Anders wipes away another tear. "My mother, Gods rest her soul, was a patriot of the highest order. At the outbreak of the war with the Northern powers, she turned over her entire fleet to the King's services. He kept her own as Admiral of the fleet and employed her mostly to run supplies around the blockades. The Sea Princes, who had been hired by our enemies to enforce the blockade, took exception, attacked my mother's flagship, seized her and executed everyone. They...saved my mother for last and put her through the vilest tortures then delivered her to our family home. Skerrin here found her. I insisted on seeing what...what they had done to her. I wish I hadn't but it was worth it to harden my resolve."
The elf bows his head and approaches Lord Anders, placing a hand on his shoulder. Solmor nods and takes a deep breath then continues. "When I came of age, King Skotti gave me my choice of Royal postings. Ambassadorships, offices, commissions. I chose Saltmarsh. And I do not regret it. I have made this place home, even if people like Primewater doubt my sincerity."
Gib -- both men look genuinely aggrieved by the story Solmar recounted and it looks to you like they're telling the truth or are at least not dissembling.
Tul looks around at the others and then back to Lord Anders and Skerrin.
"We shall do out best to secure the Sea Ghost and bring the weapons back to port. We shall do our best to salvage anything clearly marked as owned by another," Tul says. "But much can be lost when fighting aboard ship. It would not be sound logic for us to agree to return items that may not even be on the ship or that are destroyed in the seizure of the ship."
She pauses and looks over at Gib.
"What we bring back to port," Tul starts again "can be examined by Captain Fireborn for contraband or stolen property."
She looks again at Gib, hoping he sees the wriggle room in her words.
"If that is acceptable, we must get to our planning."
Gibson's brow furrows and he chews on the corner of one lip with a calculating look in his black eyes as the room falls silent. Everyone waits a moment. Then another. And another.
As if a switch had flipped, his face suddenly brightens once more and he's smiling ear-to-ear. His voice oozes with unexpected courtesy and deference. "Well if it be the will of the Crown, who am I but a humble subject living to serve at the pleasure of our glorious King Skotti, long may he reign," he purrs in a voice much softer than everyone is used to. Then he bounds to his feet and brushes pastry crumbs from his jacket and breeches onto the floor. "You, my fine, fastidious friends, have a deal! Any story can be spun and spin for Mr. Primewafer we shall! Tomorrow night we sally forth and give these pirate ne'er-do-wells another piece of our collective mind and in return you shall provide monetary compensation -- not up to our usual standards but I suppose these altruistic, humanitarian undertakings are good for public image, after all -- and a seat at the grown-ups' table!" Feeling around inside his jacket and patting his pockets to make sure he has everything, Gibson says, "Now if you gentlemen will excuse us, as Ms. Shirro said, we have a good bit of preparing to do in the meantime." He picks up his walking stick, looks to the group with a raised eyebrow, and jerks his head toward the door.
Dimma strokes her beard and nods, following along at Gibson's direction, "Much to prepare indeed." She mutters to herself as she passes through the door frame. Once they're well away from the manor, she quickly makes note that there's no prying ears before speaking up.
"Something doesn't sit right with me," Dimma says. She pauses for a moment and turns to the others, "Did you notice, when Lord Anders was giving his version of the story, it was almost the same as the version we heard from Primewater... but Lord Anders claims that it was Skerrin who came across his mother's body first. He clings to the old elf like a babe... He doesn't say hardly a word without glancing to the elf for approval. I can only imagine what details he'd let slip if we somehow managed to speak with him alone. If Primewater is to be believed about the scarlet banner - and this is a big if- then why does Lord Anders believe that the Sea Princes are responsible for his mother's death? Somebody would've had to have convince him of the Princes' involvement... the only person I can think of that would be able to sway him is Skerrin."
Dimma takes a deep breath, "Of course all this means nothing unless we can confirm Primewater's story about the scarlet banner... By Moradin, this whole affair is putting an awful stress on my head. On top of it all, a seat on the local council? I have to admit that's a fair sight more than I care to bite off... although it might give us some leverage if we do business with Primewater in the future... Speaking of whom, we have to deliver our decision to him tonight."
She poses the all-important question to the rest of the group, "So, which ship are we hunting? The Pale Prow or the Sea Ghost? Or both, perhaps... For what it's worth, I think that whatever truth is on the Pale Prow may now be in our interest as well as Primewater's. Either we find the proof of deception that Primewater is after or we can safely trust in Solmor's intentions. I think it's a win for us either way."
“I agree. It seems fair to say all parties are seeking to take advantage of us and use us to their own ends. But it doesn’t mean some good can’t come out of accepting these offers. I think taking both ships, first the Sea Ghost then the Pale Prow, would be in our best interest. We might learn something about both Primewater and Skerrin.”
Gibson chuckles. "I always assume everyone is trying to take advantage of me. That's the only way I've stayed alive all these years. What say we draw straws for whose ill-fated posterior will get strapped to a council hall chair over drinks later tonight? In the meantime, I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned it, but you all are blessed by the eternal Cumian to have, at your disposal, one who has been gifted with the ever-present burden of clairvoyance by the very same thoroughly unfathomable being. This means I can see all the possible outcomes from this whole...political...thing and steer us through these turbid waters to safety and lucrativ...ity on the shores beyond! The trouble is it's often hard to distinguish between potential realities to come and sometimes they start to blur together. It really is difficult going through life always 14 steps ahead..." He stubs his toe on a rock in the path and swears something about backwater infrastructure. Once he regains his composure and hurries to catch up to the group, he continues. "It's hard to tell if the boy is holding back while that bag of wrinkles is around, if he's in on it, or if he just flat doesn't know any different." He shakes his head. "There's no sense putting our necks on the line to find out. Our best bet is to see what we can pick up when we find the Pale Prow. With any luck it will be an enlightening experience, as Primewater hopes, and we'll come away with a better understanding of the situation."
A moment goes by as they walk and Gibson clears his throat. "Speaking of understanding situations: I think it would be beneficial if we were all on the same page when we speak with Gellie today. I hope it goes without saying that we should stay the course and keep our two clients ignorant of each other's contracts. But our ability to stay fluid amid the ever-solidifying factions of this blasted town may hinge upon our ability to convincingly feign ignorance. I'm certain the time will come, in the near future, when Anders and Skerrin will discover our activities with the Pale Prow and, sooner yet, Primewater will learn of our engagement with the Sea Ghost. As far as we're concerned, we hadn't the faintest inkling that they were in any way related to each other and we were just doing a job for the betterment of Saltmarsh and the lining of our own coffers. Are we in agreement or does anyone have a better idea?"
Dimma nods, "Business as usual then. Let's meet up and let Primewater know we want to take up his offer. Let's see what secrets wait for us on the Pale Prow."
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Dimma thinks for a moment, "Aye, in fact I could do the alterations myself. Back home I used to run the forge in service to Moradin, hand it over." She pauses, examining the size and weight of the jacket for a moment before continuing, "40 gold should cover it - and don't bother haggling - that's material cost only."
After everyone has gone their separate ways Dimma performs the artisan's blessing in her home to create the studded leather shortly before drifting off to sleep. In the morning she has the jacket wrapped up in a spare linen cloth tied together into a bundle with a length of twine. Just as she finishes she receives Skerrin's message and after checking to make sure the elf hasn't broken into her chambers prepares herself for another day of excitement.
She makes her way to the tavern where she knows the others are staying and greets everyone, finally holding out the parcel for Gib. "I didn't do any fancy tailor's work, so it'll still be too big for you around the arms, but it should offer you some meager amount of protection." She turns her attention now to Tul and nods, "I heard the old elf's message too. Best we don't keep him waiting-- Lord Anders, that is."
Hugh wake groggily to the sound of Skerrin’s voice. He gets up in a flash, swinging wildly with his fists around the empty room. “Get back here, ye bastard!” he murmurs obviously still recovering from the drinking of the night before. Hugh then looks around the room, realizing no one is in the room, he angrily stomps down the stairs to the common room of the tavern to meet the rest of the party. He then grabs a seat at the table while holding his head as he listens to what others have to say. If asked, Hugh would tell them annoyedly that yes, he heard to voice too.
Alton Thorngage- (Klein’s One Shot String Adventure)
Holden Stonefist-(A Tale of Mercenaries)
Fenrick Wolfsbane- (Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden)
DMing-Ctleath13’s Lost Mines of Phandelver and Ctleath13’s Out of the Abyss
Tul's happy that she's not the only one that heard the voice but then another thought pops in to her head.
"Do you think he can only project his thoughts to us?" Tul asks. "Or do you think he's capable of reading what's in our minds as well?"
She looks around at everyone. "Either way, I think he needs to be told how intrusive and unsettling his behaviour is. And now seems as good a time as any. If you're ready, let's go see what Anders and Skerrin have to say."
Tul heads to the door and out into the village to make her way to the council chambers if the others are ready.
Gibson enters the tavern looking nearly as rough as Hugh but with a distinct lack of stale alcohol stench. He nods wordlessly to the human and sits.
"Much obliged, Ms. Brazzik," he says quietly as he takes the parcel and begins unwrapping it. As he works, the group once again hears his voice in their heads as they did yesterday. "There are many ways to communicate wordlessly but this wrinkly, old killjoy's sheer range concerns me." As he stands and unfolds the jacket to look at it, he audibly says, "This particular method of mine is strictly one-way but who knows what tricks he has up his sleeve. And speaking of sleeves..." He dons the jacket with a flourish and a smile, the morning stupor quickly dissolving. "Folks of the cloth, such as myself you know, generally prefer the 'flowy' aesthetic for, uh...presentational purposes. Some of us," he somehow produces a small knife in one hand in the blink of an eye, "find utility in it." The knife is gone again.
He sits back down heavily. "Whoa. This thing's got some heft to it! I don't know how you armor-loving types do it... Well, if we're all in agreement, we'd better get a move on. Coffee and bacon are required and I'm afraid if Hughie doesn't get some quick he might start tearing arms off."
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Notably, Arvastan doesn't appear at the tavern to join you all --nor is he waiting as you arrive at Solmor House, a modest complex of three buildings that exist on the edge of town. The largest of the three buildings is Lord Anders's personal home, while there also seems to be a separate space for servants' quarters and a small office building. A coterie of four guards dressed in Lord Anders colors of red and gold stand at attention in front of the house and bow as you approach.
You are ushered into a dining room, that in comparison to Primewater's massive banquet hall, seems spartan and economical -- though still well above the average Saltmarsher's means. There is a modest spread of pastries, coffee and tea, tropical fruits and sausage. Lord Anders springs up from his seat at the head of the table, where he was poking at a half-eaten biscuit and a banana. Skerrin, his elven retainer, sits beside him, with some sort of hefty volume. It seems as though you may have interrupted something as Skerrin slams the book shut as soon as he sees you.
"Welcome! I am so glad you came. I had though perhaps Councilor Primewater had persuaded you to not at least hear me out. These are dangerous times for Saltmarsh, and indeed for all of Keoland. Skerrin and I have just been discussing the matter, and it seems Saltmarsh needs you greatly. Reports from King Skotti suggest preparations for...something are taking place among the lizardfolk villages to the south of us. If the Sea Princes are providing them with weapons, then there really is only one conclusion. War is coming. King Skotti is unable to send troops given the current state of the war with Ulek and Bissel so we are on our own. I need help, from people I can trust. People who have proven themselves." He sighs, wiping his red-rimmed eyes. "I'm sorry it just has been so difficult lately...."
Skerrin speaks up, now, as the young Lord takes a big gulp of coffee to compose himself. "We are proposing that you use the instructions you uncovered at Dilpas Manor to intercept the Sea Ghost tomorrow evening, and seize the weapons the Sea Princes are trying to smuggle to the lizardfolk, the smugglers, and the ship itself if you are able. While you are engaged on this mission, Captain Fireborn will utilize the guards to fortify the town, under the threat of invasion. To give you all the greatest chance of success, his Lordship will call an emergency Council meeting for tomorrow night while you are on your mission, in hopes of...not allowing any potential traitors to let slip details of our plans."
Anders bobs his head. "Yes. I...regret having to call upon your good offices again so soon, but I hope you will consider helping. I have been through my accounts, and i can offer you 400 gold, the promise of more work, and..." he looks to Skerrin, who nods imperceptibly, "a seat on Council. The meeting tomorrow will allow me to add another seat. I have the votes from Fireborn and Manistrad Copperlocks. I had hoped to ask your friend, the sea elf, as he has an existing friendship with Eda and may prove less objectionable to her and Primewater, but I have heard from Skerrin here that Master Shark-Friend has no plans to get involved any further with the town's affairs. Regardless, though, I will ensure one of you have that seat -- especially if war is coming" He looks at you and spreads his hands wide. "Please say you'll help! I cannot think of any matter that could possibly be more serious." At this moment, the boy looks very much like the teenager he is.
Tul organizes her thoughts for a moment before speaking. Anders seems to speak from the heart but Skerrin is very precise and to the point. Whatever differences there are between Primewater and Anders are likely the work of Skerrin, she thinks to herself.
"No one in Saltmarsh will win if there is war. The Sea Princes seem fixated on short term profit at the expense of their long term success. But then I think that is why they are so dangerous and always have been. They are not logical in their thinking," Tul says. "I for one will attempt to stop them and their delivery of weapons."
She takes a step towards Anders and bows her head slightly.
"Always remember, Lord Anders," Tul begins "in the battle between a stone and water, the stone makes a big splash, but in time, the water always wins. Helping this town will not be one battle but a long steady series of ebbs and flows until true persistence leads to the inevitable."
"Well if this adventuring thing doesn't pan out, Tul, you've got a bright future ahead of you as a soothsayer! These sage little tidbits would be a fun addition, written on tiny scrolls, and thrown in when selling trinkets or baked goods. Perhaps you and Dimma could open a shop for cookies and fortunes!" Gibson smiles and puts a hand on Tul's shoulder before noting the look in her eye and removing it while hastily changing the subject.
"500 gold, you say? Sheesh... I've never worked for so little! Well, except for yesterday, I suppose. But this is a noble cause if ever there was one! I guess I could bring myself to work for such a meager pittance once more. But do keep in mind that our standard rates will apply going forward!"
Gibson looks back to the group. "I was never one for Dragonchess but all this maneuvering reminds me of back when my old man -- Cumian take him in their dark embrace -- tried to teach me to play the game. It's not that the Princes lack vision for the future and simply desire chaos, it's that they are trying to create chaos on this side of the border to distract and weaken the kingdom while they prepare whatever they're planning for their next step with no loss of their own." He sighs. "This is why I hate politics. Who would ever want this much responsibility?! It's so much easier to simply follow your own self interest and move on!"
Remembering that Skerrin and Anders are still there, staring at him after his tangent, his eyes snap back to Lord Solomor. "Now, if we're going to do this charity work for hardly any pay, I do think I must insist that we get what we in the business refer to as 'dibs' over any and all goods recovered from this mission! We'd be happy to donate anything that's left over to the watch's armory but we'll certainly need such an assurance in lieu of more appropriate pay. I can tell by your expression you think that's full well and fair so I'll only ask one more thing of the both of you: Since you are going through all the trouble of distracting any potential 'traitors' who may be among us, as you say, we'd be much obliged if you were to keep the matter of this mission to yourselves even after its conclusion. We appreciate your promise of future work but we must needs continue to make ourselves available to the other movers and shakers of Saltmarsh, regardless of their potential allegiances as long as they remain in good standing with the town. It would be no good at all if some of our potential job pool dried up prematurely and veiled animosities were leveled in our direction. Gibson's Glorious Go-Getters are here to do good and get paid, not to get involved with warring factions!"
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Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Lord Anders bows stiffly to Tul. "Thank you for your wisdom. It is easy to forget in times like these, but this town could one day become truly great in a way not even King Skotti anticipates. I must learn patience. Skerrin tells me much the same thing."
He laughs delightedly at Gib. "What a way with words you have, Friend Lemonyellow. A few things. I think you will find the sum I offered is 400 gold, and unfortunately, I cannot guarantee you your pick of goods. The weapons of course will go to King Skotti's war efforts in the North. And should you come across any valuable clearly stolen property, Keoish law dictates it be returned. There...might be some latitude with some of this, but the weapons and ship MUST be turned over to the Crown. As far as keeping your role quiet, we shall do our best, but it may be difficult to guarantee one amongst you a seat on Council without some accounting of your deeds to the other members of Council. Captain Fireborn's vote is contingent upon the lot of you agreeing to intercept the Sea Ghost. You see, he already knows I am making this request. He is the only one, so far, though perhaps your friend the sea elf has already told Council Oweland."
Skerrin steps in smoothly. "There are numerous disagreements between his Lordship and Councilors Primewater and Oweland as you are no doubt aware. However, Eda Oweland certainly despises the Sea Princes as much as his Lordship, so I doubt very much publicizing your role in crippling their influence in Saltmarsh will overly harm your standing in town. As for Councilor Primewater, at least in public, he will make no move against you. "
Solmor scowls. "I doubt very much anyone could hate the Princes as much as I do, old friend. Every time I sleep, I see what they did to my mother. I will not rest until they are eliminated and their lands are burnt to the ground and salted. May I take it I have your word you will undertake this dangerous expedition on my behalf?"
Gibson's expression darkens slowly and steadily as all this is said (mid-bite halfway through a pastry) but quickly perks back up at the question, smile already reinstated. "Am I to understand that there is absolutely no room for negotiation in this matter? My counteroffer? My petition for...'dibs'? My request for anonymity? I appreciate your offer of 'latitude' and we may just take you up on it, pending our findings, but I fear I must insist that you at the very least keep our identities amongst yourselves and the Loyalists. I'd hope that blasted elf has the good sense to keep his tongue in his head but that Prizewater fellow has hinted at having work for us in the future as well and Gib's Gregarious Galactophagists are not ones to pick sides when there's honest work to be done and coin to be earned!"
An eyebrow arches and Gibson's focus hones in on Anders. "Now... What is this about the Princes and your mother? An outsider hears tidbits here and there but if we're to throw in against the likes of that lot, I'd like to hear it from the source. There's plenty of versions of stories floating around, but what really happened?"
If Anders tells the tale, Gibson's going to keep a close eye on both him and Skerrin for any indication of deceit or reactions to anything that's said. Eyes flitting around/refusal to make eye contact, body language, tone, etc.
Insight: 6
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Tul listens to Gibson's indignation about negotiations and counteroffers. She smiles to herself. She would have to remember to explain to Gib that the only items Anders and Skerrin know about for sure are the weapons. Anything else on that ship may or may not be there. Perhaps there was still a little of her old self still hiding out deep inside.
Lord Anders sighs and looks to Skerrin at Gib's comments, but the elf makes no move to step in. Blinking as though he had been slapped, the boy says "It is not my intention at all to make this task seem unpleasant, Mr. Lemonyellow. I thought you might leap at the chance to further solidify your position in town. If you wish that only myself, Skerrin, Captain Fireborn and Manistrad are the only ones that know of you undertaking this mission, I will...do my best to honor your wishes. But you're making it a damned sight harder to ensure you are placed on Council." He complains, pouting.
Skerrin looks at you all carefully. "I would be careful what work I accept from Councilor Primewater if I were in your position. The man's legitimate businesses seem to be struggling and I think perhaps he may find himself to be rather...overextended. Payment through his Lordship on the other hand, is always a sure thing."
As Gib asks about his mother, Lord Anders wipes away another tear. "My mother, Gods rest her soul, was a patriot of the highest order. At the outbreak of the war with the Northern powers, she turned over her entire fleet to the King's services. He kept her own as Admiral of the fleet and employed her mostly to run supplies around the blockades. The Sea Princes, who had been hired by our enemies to enforce the blockade, took exception, attacked my mother's flagship, seized her and executed everyone. They...saved my mother for last and put her through the vilest tortures then delivered her to our family home. Skerrin here found her. I insisted on seeing what...what they had done to her. I wish I hadn't but it was worth it to harden my resolve."
The elf bows his head and approaches Lord Anders, placing a hand on his shoulder. Solmor nods and takes a deep breath then continues. "When I came of age, King Skotti gave me my choice of Royal postings. Ambassadorships, offices, commissions. I chose Saltmarsh. And I do not regret it. I have made this place home, even if people like Primewater doubt my sincerity."
Gib -- both men look genuinely aggrieved by the story Solmar recounted and it looks to you like they're telling the truth or are at least not dissembling.
Tul looks around at the others and then back to Lord Anders and Skerrin.
"We shall do out best to secure the Sea Ghost and bring the weapons back to port. We shall do our best to salvage anything clearly marked as owned by another," Tul says. "But much can be lost when fighting aboard ship. It would not be sound logic for us to agree to return items that may not even be on the ship or that are destroyed in the seizure of the ship."
She pauses and looks over at Gib.
"What we bring back to port," Tul starts again "can be examined by Captain Fireborn for contraband or stolen property."
She looks again at Gib, hoping he sees the wriggle room in her words.
"If that is acceptable, we must get to our planning."
Gibson's brow furrows and he chews on the corner of one lip with a calculating look in his black eyes as the room falls silent. Everyone waits a moment. Then another. And another.
As if a switch had flipped, his face suddenly brightens once more and he's smiling ear-to-ear. His voice oozes with unexpected courtesy and deference. "Well if it be the will of the Crown, who am I but a humble subject living to serve at the pleasure of our glorious King Skotti, long may he reign," he purrs in a voice much softer than everyone is used to. Then he bounds to his feet and brushes pastry crumbs from his jacket and breeches onto the floor. "You, my fine, fastidious friends, have a deal! Any story can be spun and spin for Mr. Primewafer we shall! Tomorrow night we sally forth and give these pirate ne'er-do-wells another piece of our collective mind and in return you shall provide monetary compensation -- not up to our usual standards but I suppose these altruistic, humanitarian undertakings are good for public image, after all -- and a seat at the grown-ups' table!" Feeling around inside his jacket and patting his pockets to make sure he has everything, Gibson says, "Now if you gentlemen will excuse us, as Ms. Shirro said, we have a good bit of preparing to do in the meantime." He picks up his walking stick, looks to the group with a raised eyebrow, and jerks his head toward the door.
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Dimma strokes her beard and nods, following along at Gibson's direction, "Much to prepare indeed." She mutters to herself as she passes through the door frame. Once they're well away from the manor, she quickly makes note that there's no prying ears before speaking up.
"Something doesn't sit right with me," Dimma says. She pauses for a moment and turns to the others, "Did you notice, when Lord Anders was giving his version of the story, it was almost the same as the version we heard from Primewater... but Lord Anders claims that it was Skerrin who came across his mother's body first. He clings to the old elf like a babe... He doesn't say hardly a word without glancing to the elf for approval. I can only imagine what details he'd let slip if we somehow managed to speak with him alone. If Primewater is to be believed about the scarlet banner - and this is a big if- then why does Lord Anders believe that the Sea Princes are responsible for his mother's death? Somebody would've had to have convince him of the Princes' involvement... the only person I can think of that would be able to sway him is Skerrin."
Dimma takes a deep breath, "Of course all this means nothing unless we can confirm Primewater's story about the scarlet banner... By Moradin, this whole affair is putting an awful stress on my head. On top of it all, a seat on the local council? I have to admit that's a fair sight more than I care to bite off... although it might give us some leverage if we do business with Primewater in the future... Speaking of whom, we have to deliver our decision to him tonight."
She poses the all-important question to the rest of the group, "So, which ship are we hunting? The Pale Prow or the Sea Ghost? Or both, perhaps... For what it's worth, I think that whatever truth is on the Pale Prow may now be in our interest as well as Primewater's. Either we find the proof of deception that Primewater is after or we can safely trust in Solmor's intentions. I think it's a win for us either way."
Tul nods in agreement with Dimma.
“I agree. It seems fair to say all parties are seeking to take advantage of us and use us to their own ends. But it doesn’t mean some good can’t come out of accepting these offers. I think taking both ships, first the Sea Ghost then the Pale Prow, would be in our best interest. We might learn something about both Primewater and Skerrin.”
Gibson chuckles. "I always assume everyone is trying to take advantage of me. That's the only way I've stayed alive all these years. What say we draw straws for whose ill-fated posterior will get strapped to a council hall chair over drinks later tonight? In the meantime, I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned it, but you all are blessed by the eternal Cumian to have, at your disposal, one who has been gifted with the ever-present burden of clairvoyance by the very same thoroughly unfathomable being. This means I can see all the possible outcomes from this whole...political...thing and steer us through these turbid waters to safety and lucrativ...ity on the shores beyond! The trouble is it's often hard to distinguish between potential realities to come and sometimes they start to blur together. It really is difficult going through life always 14 steps ahead..." He stubs his toe on a rock in the path and swears something about backwater infrastructure. Once he regains his composure and hurries to catch up to the group, he continues. "It's hard to tell if the boy is holding back while that bag of wrinkles is around, if he's in on it, or if he just flat doesn't know any different." He shakes his head. "There's no sense putting our necks on the line to find out. Our best bet is to see what we can pick up when we find the Pale Prow. With any luck it will be an enlightening experience, as Primewater hopes, and we'll come away with a better understanding of the situation."
A moment goes by as they walk and Gibson clears his throat. "Speaking of understanding situations: I think it would be beneficial if we were all on the same page when we speak with Gellie today. I hope it goes without saying that we should stay the course and keep our two clients ignorant of each other's contracts. But our ability to stay fluid amid the ever-solidifying factions of this blasted town may hinge upon our ability to convincingly feign ignorance. I'm certain the time will come, in the near future, when Anders and Skerrin will discover our activities with the Pale Prow and, sooner yet, Primewater will learn of our engagement with the Sea Ghost. As far as we're concerned, we hadn't the faintest inkling that they were in any way related to each other and we were just doing a job for the betterment of Saltmarsh and the lining of our own coffers. Are we in agreement or does anyone have a better idea?"
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"Yes, perhaps the less said the better," Tul says when she can finally get a word in after Gibson's lengthy sermon.
Gibson's smile broadens as he wordlessly winks at Tul.
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Dimma nods, "Business as usual then. Let's meet up and let Primewater know we want to take up his offer. Let's see what secrets wait for us on the Pale Prow."