Gib looks lost in thought for a moment before musing, "I've never found myself wanting a ship before but the prospect does seem appealing..." He thrusts a finger into the air and declares, "Onward, then, to hasten the day of our payment!"

Hugh stays quiet, dubiously listening to the others speak. He had no knowledge of politics and was simply here to earn some coin and kill some things. 

You all make the short trip from Solmor House to the Council Chambers, where you enter without a problem, by now, already familiar faces to the guards there. You find Primewater in his office, working at his desk with his sleeves quite literally rolled up. The whole pose looks completely artificial, as if he was waiting for you to show you how hard at work he was.

"Ah, if it isn't...wait, I remember it, Gib's Garrulous Gladiators of Goodness?" He laughs with satisfaction as he picks up his tea cup and takes a big drink of the fragrant blend. He puts down the cup and looks at you with pursed lips, his entire person resembling a cherub at the moment.

"You are earlier than I expected. That is either very good news, or very bad news for me. Which is it, I wonder?" He raises an eyebrow. "And without Eda's...uh, 'friend.' Very curious."

He closes the book he was working on and picks up his elegantly cut jacket and puts it back on. "Well, don't leave me in suspense! Are we to be in business together or not?" He says in his bored, rich-person drawl.

"Like a steel trap, that mind of yours!" Gibson has been smiling from ear to ear since entering. "We do, indeed, have good news, albeit of a stipulated variety." He pulls up the nearest chair, inviting himself to sit down across from Primewater.

"While I have the utmost respect and appreciation for your straight dealings with us, in as much as you've been truthful and not in any way misleading thus far, and I value your patronage more than life itself..." He puts a hand to his heart and lets the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "There are those among us who believe that while your offer is very generous for the proposed job, considering the potential danger and whatnot, should our findings fall fully and emphatically in your favor, there should be some sort of prearranged bonus involved seeing as how you have so much to gain from such a sound set of circumstances." He locks eyes with Gellan and continues to smile as he waits for a response.

(Gib roll persuasion)

Persuasion: 15

Tul listens to Gibson and Primewater, suspecting that Gibson is actually asking for more money but if she was asked to bet her life on it she might not be so sure.

She leans over closer to Dimma and Hugh and speaks in a hushed voice, "he may not want to be a council member, but he does speak in the clouded vague manner that they all seem to."

For a moment, the only sound you hear is Primewater's fingers drumming against his heavy wooden desk as he stares at Gib. Finally, he speaks, in a voice very unlike his typical, flowry languorous tone. Even his accent seems to change, turning much harder, more evocative of the working class background that Primewater always claimed in public. "Fine. 100 gold AND a selection from my vault. You may have both if your expedition to the Pale Prow proves fruitful. However, in exchange, never cast another charm spell on me. Or, my friend." He looks at Gib evenly. "I shall hang you by the tail from my terrace and gut you from your todger to your throat and rain your guts all over Saltmarsh Harbor." He smiles pleasantly and instantly his manner seems to revert to the same aristocratic boredom he typically evinces.

"Do you agree to these terms? If so, I can give you the details and you can be on your way immediately."

Gibson checks his fingernails and straightens the cuff of his new favorite jacket for several moments with a self-satisfied grin before looking up again. "You're too generous, Councilman! I think that should do quite nicely. And, of course, I do apologize if the wiles and charms of an old man of the cloth such as myself can sometimes be hard to resist. We are all but mortals and similarly yolked with the susceptibilities of these fleeting corporeal forms, you know! And I'll tell you what: As much as your delicious descriptions of deckside dismemberment land on my side of a good time, I really should put business before pleasure and stick to polishing off pirates for pay. If word gets out that the two of us have such dark tendencies, people will start to talk!" He gives Primewater an ever-so-brief glance of sober understanding before continuing. "Now! Let's hear these details you keep teasing us with so we can start scheming. We have more work on the books in the near future so we'd best get a move on!"

Tul almost reaches over and smacks Gib for his last sentence. Primewater would likely know the only people they had met since dinner were Anders and Skerrin. But if he hadn’t notice, Tul hitting Gib would surely highlight the statement. Instead she quickly adds her own voice.

”Taking a ship at sea is not an easy thing. Hopefully you have information as to where it harbours if not docks.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Hugh whispers not so softly to Tul. “Half the stuff comin’ out Gib’s mouth I don’t even understand. Just smile and nod, that’s what me mum told me, anyway.”

Primewater's eyes narrows at Gib's mention of other work, but he says nothing. Instead, he stands and brings a navigational chart over to you all. "This is the best chance I've had to find the Pale Prow. Its the closest she's come to Saltmarsh since I began my investigations." He presses his thumb against a small island  a good distance out from the natural cove that Saltmarsh sits within. "This island here. It's known as Morningstar Island." He makes a face. "Nasty place. My men are instructed to avoid it like the plague. The 'leader' there is a self-styled 'Baron' by the name of Horace Fortune. I haven't met him myself, but my people who have report there is something...unsettling about him. The Prow put down on the island two days ago, a massive fogbank following it. It's got to be moving soon -- maybe tonight. I will put you on my fastest ship, Zola's Favour, and if the wind's are kind, you should be there by late afternoon. You must get to the ship before it moves. With the fog that follows that ship, as soon as it leaves the island, it is as good as gone. How you do so, I shall leave it up to your already proven talents."

He rolls up the map and hands it to Tul. "Between yourself and Silverford there, I expect if you do take the ship, you can get it back to Saltmarsh in one piece. And if not, my ship will return you back here, evidence in tow. Obviously, I'd prefer you to avoid bloodshed, but I expect it given the Pale Prow's rather alarming reputation. I also, have employed a...specialist, who will be traveling with you and assisting you as they see fit." He glances at his pocket watch. "I must head down to the docks to speak to the captain. You are welcome to join me, of course, but if you need to provision or...follow up on your other business you can meet me there later. Do you have any questions for now?"

"If I may ask," Tul begins. "Who is this specialist? I think we would like to meet them prior to setting sail."

She looks at the others.

"We have been through a lot together in a short time and know what to expect from each other. But adding a stranger to our mission may upset the balance unless we can more fully understand what makes them so skilled."

"I don't know about them, but I have a bit of time at this precise moment before other matters will require my highly-sought-after attention. I'd be happy to accompany you to the docks." Gibson stands and straightens his jacket. "But planting a spy in our midst?" He lets a bark of laughter slip out. "Can't say as I blame you, old chum! Some of my compatriots do come across a bit dodgy at times. Well, the more the merrier, I say! We've nothing to hide from our good friend Mr. Prizewater and I dare say we can use all the help we can get when it comes to pirates! As long as they don't get in our way and..." He trails off for just a moment and his eyes flash as his brow furrows. "Say! This specialist of yours is receiving their own salary, yes? I'm not about to split my spurious spoils with some sneaky snake sent to snoop on our salacious set!"

"Yes, we mustn't doddle,"  Dimma says with a nod of her head, "Before we head out, what do we know about the Pale Prow? Anything about its class, armaments, number of decks, crew size? I don't like too many surprises..."

Primewater grins at you all, clearly pleased. "I assure you that Wist is more than capable of holding his own. He will certainly be an asset to your little band of adventurers. He will naturally ensure that my interests are protected as well. And to answer your rather perceptive question, Mr. Lemonyellow, Wist is an employee of my company, and is on a salary. He does not affect your potential windfall. Come, let us go to Zola's Favour and meet your crew!"

On the walk over to the docks, Primewater fills you in on the intelligence he has about the Pale Prow. "It is a warship, of course, and has a full complement of ballistas, mangonells and of course, a Naval Ram. Other than the captain, I do have reports of a deck wizard, and at least ten crew members visible upon the decks. That seems to me a little light, but good information about this ship is dashed difficult to find. There is also the blasted fog that seems to travel with the ship wherever it goes. Suggests to me the deck wizard is a rather powerful operator, but then again, maybe they have some other means of creating the fog."

Finally, you arrive at Zola's Favour. It is a Galley boat, gleaming and shining, like all of Primewater's ships.  It's clear the old merchant is proud of her, as he looks at the ship with a small smile and nods. As you all approach, you are met at the gangplank by the ship's captain Bertram Yahlgrin, a hardy looking gnome with an enormous handlebar mustache.

"Permission to come aboard, captain?" Primewater claps the gnome on the shoulder and introduces you all. "These are the adventurers who will infiltrate the Pale Prow on my behalf.."

The gnome nods and squints at you all. "Ain't too bad. A few of 'em have the smell of the sea about them." He turns back to Primewater. Sir, I want to ask again if'n you'll reconsider. Between the Prow and that cursed Morningstar Island, we'd be literally trapped between two bad omens.

Primewater glares at him. "Nonsense, Captain Yahlgrin. If this mission is done right, the Prow will be of no concern. And certainly, however strange he may be, Baron Fortune surely knows better than to challenge Primewater Enterprises directly on something I am personally overseeing."

The gnome nods, but looks unconvinced. He opens his mouth to say more, but the look on Primewater's face convinces him otherwise.

"Now, where is my good friend, Wist, Captain? Our guests have expressed a desire to meet him since he'll be part of this little sortie."

Captain Yahlgrin sighs. "Below decks sir, with Mr. Glasshammer, the surgeon."

Primewater claps Yahlgrin on the back hard, causing the gnome to wince, then the merchant starts to walk up the  gangplank. "Come, come! The sooner we get you situated the sooner you can begin your journey to wealth and power in Saltmarsh!"

Gibson sticks out his chest and struts up/down the gangplank. “Captain Dahlgrim! Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Name’s Gibson Lemonyellow, high priest of the First Church of Cumian. My friends call me ‘Gib’ so you can call me ‘Gib.’ You may have heard of me: Scourge of the southern seas and sailor extraordinaire! If you require any assistance with navigation or any of the higher, more executive functions of our journey, please don’t hesitate to ask.” He leans in and whispers, “And do keep an eye on this lot. I’m not sure all of them have gotten their sea legs just yet.” With a pat on the shoulder, Gibson boards the ship and takes a look around followed by a deep breath and a sigh. To noone in particular he says, “Ah… It’s good to be on the open ocean again. It’s been too long!” Then he follows Primewater below decks to meet the new ward they’d have to keep out of trouble.

Tul moves up the gangplank quickly. While Gibson engages the captain in conversation she looks over to Dimma and Hugh. 

"The four of us, plus this Wist person, against a crew of at least 10, plus a captain and wizard plus the difficulties of boarding a ship not in port?" she says. "This sounds like Primewater wins if we succeed in taking the Pale Prow and he wins if we don't since we'll all be dead and out of his way."

Once on board, she looks around the Zola's Favour.

"Taking a jolly boat under cover of darkness and the fog might work. We could hopefully get on board and incapacitate half the crew before they know we're there."

Hugh walk up, giving a nod to to the captain as her passes. “Hugh. Hugh Silverford.” He says gruffly before promptly moving to the front of the ship, smelling the salt and feeling the breeze. “It’s been a long time...,” he murmurs to no one in particular, but on board the ship, Hugh seems... different. Almost happy in a way, but also in general more social and interactive. 

He looks to Tul. “Yer right. I don’t like those odds, but I’ve seen what some of us— even Gib— can do. We aren’t pushovers.”

"That's comforting! And the fog plan isn't half bad in general, but a bit half-baked here" says a blue-skinned man to Tul and Hugh, landing silently on the deck beside them from somewhere overhead in the rigging. "From what I gather fog and the Pale Prow go hand in hand, and it stands to reason her crew is well accustomed to it. I guess if you all are as talented as you seem to think, maybe you'll make a decent distraction for me though. I'm Wist - I take it Mr. Primewater told you I'd be here? I'm the specialist."

Wist is a slender genasi with pale blue skin and wave of dark blue crystals in a stiff approximation of hair. He wears comfortable looking clothes with leather armor layering, and has a short bow and quiver strung over his shoulder. At first glance he looks to be almost 6'5", but you all probably notice that he's still floating a few inches off the deck for effect. If he catches a downward glance he smiles with a shrug and settles to the ground. He extends a hand to Tul for a handshake, and to Hugh and Dimma in turn.

"It's probably worth heading down to meet the ship's surgeon, that's probably were Mr. Primewater and your friend are expecting to find me. I make it a habit to keep Yahlgrin guessing."