Gibson smiles broadly, lays a finger to the side of his nose and winks at Tul. "Ol' Gib may be a doddering old coot but he's no fool. I have my reasons for being the way I am and right now I have a reason for wanting to get back. Add to that the fact that some of these silks should fetch a pretty penny with my pal Winston and I have no desire to be here any longer." He stashes a half dozen bolts of the finest-looking fabrics he can find with a quick glance (he has absolutely no eye for this so probably just whatever's shiny) and jumps in the boat and lifts an oar, not realizing we'll probably need to push the boat out to the water first (he's never been on a boat small enough that he had to do anything).

Arvastan sighs audibly and moves to the large boulder. "Hugh, DImma -- one of you give me a hand and shift the boulder, then we can push the ship out and be on our way. Even without the little prince's reward, today was a pretty big payday." He smiles. "Anyone have any idea on the final haul?"

(Hugh or Dimma -- one of you please make an Athletics check with advantage).

Athletics: 25

Hugh almost singlehandedly pushes the giant boulder off of the rope, leaving Arvastan behind. The sea elf gives a little smirk and wraps up the rope, and waits for Hugh to dispose of the boulder before pushing the ship out into the water.

And like that, all of you are on the open sea. Its a bit colder now than it was on the walk up the hillside, as the cold saltwater air stings your skin as you row the boat.

DM Screen

Amazingly, with Arvastan navigating and Hugh (himself an experienced sailor) leading the cadence for rowing, the group gets the boat going rather smoothly. The jolly boat hugs the coastline as you sail towards the Saltmarsh Docks, and as the sun starts to set and turns the sky brilliant shades of purple, its easy to forget, for a bit, the turmoil that seems to be gripping the coastal town.

You sail right into the town docks without a problem -- though the presence of the Sea Prince smugglers you caught causes consternation and some concerned glances from several of the sailors currently hanging around the docks, and the guard are soon summoned.

About ten minutes later, Captain Eliander Fireborn, the massive Goliath captain of Saltmarsh's City Guard arrives. "Well well well..." He says in his booming baritone. "The intrepid adventurers return. With a fresh catch, nonetheless." He roars with laughter, before grinning shrewdly at Hugh. "First time I've been called to a scene where I didn't have to put you in chains or pull you off some poor dumb bastard who tried to fight you, Hughie, my boy." Turning to the three nervous looking human guards standing behind him, the Goliath snarls "Get this Sea Prince scum to the gaol, boys. And unload this cargo! And if even one drop of that brandy goes missing, I'll be using yer foreskins as new sails for my boat!"

Two of the guards lead the dwarves -- all of whom look some mix of fearful and resigned off the boat, while the third struggles to pull the crates from the jolly boat.

Captain Fireborn chuckles gleefully at the sight, then turns serious. He addresses Dimma and Tul -- the guard captain having met or known the other three party members to already have formed negative opinions of all of them.

"This is a great service you've provided. I know the Council -- well, at least some of the Council will agree. You should see Lord Anders at the Council Chamber. The execution this morning took a lot out of the boy, and he'll be desperate for some good news. And if you've any free time, you should see me. I've plenty of work for capable people. Especially now."

(Everybody, LEVEL UP -- and unless there's any business with Captain Fireborn, we can go right to the Council chambers and the rest of your rewards ;-)  )

"Uh, Corporal Firebrand, sir! A moment of your time." Gibson shouts as he runs to catch up. Once there, he stops for a moment with hands on knees, wheezing even though it was only a few paces. "We've recovered quite a bit of contraband and dispatched a number of smuggler scum but two things come to mind that I think you should be aware of: First, know that these dwarves (and a few of their fallen compatriots) may have already put a dent in the brandy." Gibson coughs into his fist and discretely checks to see if his breath smells like alcohol. "The positive side is that their drunken stupor made it considerably easier to apprehend these scoundrels and off their ne'er-do-well friends. But secondly, and possibly more importantly (depending on your priorities), we overheard a bit of unexpected scuttlebutt that we'll be relaying to Hisyoungsirlordship shortly enough. I'm not sure the measure of truth to it, but I think it might behoove you to make yourself available in the event the young master needs your particular skillset, dependent upon what he decides to do with said information."

Gibson gives an awkward curtsy/bow and backs away, returning to the group.

As Gib takes off after the captain, Tul whispers to the others.

"If Sanbalet was being honest back there, we don't know who we can trust in town. Someone in authority may be working with the Sea Princes. We will need to remain vigilant and watch what we say unless the shadows of this deception cover us as well."

Hugh gives a snort of laughter at Fireborn’s comment. “Finally found somethin’ worth more coin that a good ol’ brawl,” he says with a smile. 

Tul looks around at the others.

"Shall we go back to the council chambers and let them know what we found out and see if there's any real surprise in Lord Anders or his keeper?" she asks.

Gibson nods and begins walking toward the Council Hall.

On your walk from the Docks to the Council Hall, you draw a lot of attention from the crowd. Apparently, word of your exploits traveled through town rather rapidly and you hear snippets of their conversation.

"Ah, I knew it weren't ghosts all along..."

"I heard them telling the guards they captured those Princes after a fierce battle...left at least six men dead....

"Heh. Wonder if this means the Council will sell the place now. Those cliffside views of the sea would fetch a pretty penny. Make a nice little B&B."

By the time you get to the Council Chambers, you've attracted quite the crowd following you behind. A few workers are engaged in tearing down the gallows, leading you to believe the morning's executions were finished.

As you enter, you see the portly man from this morning, some dressed in a different, yet equally stylish merchant's cloak. "Ah, so Lord Anders's pet adventurers have returned triumphant it seems. Heard you did quite the number on those smugglers. I'd be careful if I were you. The Princes have friends in powerful places." He says, in the same bored, laconic drawl you heard before. "I'd also be careful to whom you anchor yourself. The boy in there may seem like a naif, but he's colder than he seems. Ruthless too." He seems on the verge of saying more when Skerrin, Lord Anders's retainer, emerges from his office down the hall.

"That is quite enough, Sir Gellan. Your Council duties ended today with the execution. I am surprised to find you still here."

The man, whom you now recognize as Sir Gellan Primewater, the town's wealthiest person and owner of a fleet of ships that service most of the nations of Oerth, waves a hand airily at the elf. "When you're as wealthy as I am, Skerrin old boy, time really doesn't have any meaning. Keeping to a schedule is so...middle class." He winks at you. "Why don't the lot of you come to dinner at my house tonight? My wife and daughters would love to hear the tale of the Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh. Seven o'clock on the dot." Without waiting for an answer, he dashes out. "Toodle-loo. See you tonight!"

Skerrin rolls his eyes dramatically and steps to the side to allow you all entry. You see the young Lord Anders Solmor, sitting at Skerrin's desk. The young man looks pale and his eyes are red-rimmed., but as he sees you all, he brightens.

"My friends! Captain Fireborn already sent a runner with news of your success, but please....come in and tell me EVERYTHING!"

 Lord Anders waves at Skerrin to grab more chairs so the rest of you can sit, as he himself moves around the desk, sitting on the front of it and leaning forward, almost puppy-like in his enthusiasm.

"So...what did you discover?"

(Up to y'all how much you want to share.)

“Oh, brother, do I have a story for you! A riveting tale of swashbuckling, powerful evil wizards, necromancy, crime and punishment, triumphant heroism, and cryptozoological wonders the likes of which you’ve never even imagined…” Gibson sets in. Pulling up a chair, he looks around for a drink and, not seeing one immediately available, arches an eyebrow and makes the universal hand gesture for needing a drink. Assuming Lord Anders understands the international fraternal shorthand, Gib clears his throat and continues. "First and foremost, I'll tell you this: that place is falling apart! There wasn't a floor, wall, ceiling, or pirate that Tul here didn't put her foot through! It was incredible. Like a stone from a sling, that thing!" He chuckles and glances around for an attendant or someone coming with a drink. "Arvastan over there stabbed a man in the heart. There were giant badgers, and a man on fire, and he killed a guy with a trident! Well, I might be exaggerating about the man on fire but it makes for a great story!" Looking around again, Gibson reaches into his bag and pulls out the half-empty bottle of wine. He looks to Lord Anders and Skerrin, wordlessly offering them a drink, then shrugs and takes a swig. Kicking his feet up on the table, he continues. "Everyone's favorite Dimma here spotted every magical trap that ratfink wizard had a mile away so we never had a thing to worry about. It was smooth sailing from the get! Oh, getting back to the miserable so-and-so of a wizard... It was hilarious! Our Hughie there popped his head clean off! I've never seen anything quite like it! Oh!!" He sits up straight and grabs the bag, rummaging around in it. "Ah, here it is!" Pulling the severed head of Sanbalet out by its ear, he tosses it onto the table with a splat. It lands on its side, eyes staring at Lord Anders with mouth gaping open. "There's your mastermind. Well... Perhaps not 'mastermind' as far as those things go, but the ring leader of that miserable crew at the very least. Speaking of..." Gibson trails off and leans forward to whisper so that only Anders can hear, "You might want to keep this to yourself as we don't have what might be called 'pertinent' or 'convincing' evidence just yet, but we overheard our truncated friend there speaking before his soliloquies were forever cut short. It seems you may have a traitor in your midst. Someone with no small amount of pull around these parts. It sounded as if the wizard had been working in concert with the conniving quisling on their smuggling and piracy project." He sits back and kicks his feet up again, taking another pull from the wine bottle and resumes his normal speaking volume to everyone's chagrin. "But don't you worry your little head over it, son. Ol' Gib's got it all under control and we're going to find the snake in your grass and cut off its head." His eyes dart briefly to Sanbalet. "We're working a lead but may need a little time. And speaking of money, my troops here performed more than admirably in the face of adversity. I can tell by the look on your face that you agree with that succinct assessment and, knowing that you're a man of honor and means, would also concur that Gibson's Grandiose Globetrotters," he gives everyone a probing side-eye, "are due not only a well-deserved payday but a raise and a retainer for continuing to fight the good fight... Against the... Uh..." His eyes snap back into focus and his brain catches up. "The nefarious plots and machinations of the vile Princes and their principalities and what have you!" He finishes this last bit with a flourish and leans forward, staring expectantly at Lord Anders.

While Gib gives the rundown of their adventure, Tul watches Lord Anders and Skerrin carefully the whole time trying to judge their reaction and whether there’s any indication they may already know some of what Gib is saying.

Insight: 12 

Dimma keeps an eye out for reactions from anyone that may be passing nearby, especially other council members. Anders is clear of her suspicion for now, but the rest of the prominent members of Saltmarsh are suspect. 

Insight: 12

Gib -- you couldn't have asked for a better audience for your tale than Lord Anders Solmor. The young noble's face is rapt with attention for the entire story, gazing at each of you in admiration as the tale is told. The only real negative reaction is the young man getting even paler as you pull out the head of the wizard Sanbalet, his face still twisted in the same gaze of reverent awe as when Hugh removed his head. Skerrin moves quickly, and slides the head into the dustbin. As Gibson wraps up, it looks as though the Royal Councilor may burst into applause, but he is stopped by a stern look from his retainer. Instead, Lord Anders goes back around to his seat and sits down.

Dimma and Tul -- as you study Lord Anders -- unless the boy is a superb actor -- his reaction seems entirely genuine, and you see a look of anger and hatred flush his face as Gib mentions the Princes. Skerrin is a bit harder to read, though he raises his eyebrows and looks at Lord Anders very curiously as Gibson mentions the possibility of the smugglers having a contact in Saltmarsh. It's not exactly surprise, more...curiosity to see how Anders is taking the news.

"Good show! Good show! It sounds like you lot gave those bastards a ruddy black eye!" He pulls out the ledger that Skerrin was holding the morning and looks at it. "So, we gave you fifty gold as a retainer, eh? You've more than earned your 200 and more." He does the math quickly. "Skerrin, get them each an additional...let's say 50 gold each as a sincere thanks for their service in removing this menace."

As Skerrin nods and exits the room, Lord Anders rubs his hands together. "This is the good news I needed today. Did you chaps...and ladies, of course, get any intelligence about what the Princes are doing here? Or what their next move is? They don't know we've disrupted their operation yet. We could use this to our advantage and root them out of Saltmarsh forever!"

Skerrin returns and hands each of you another black velvet coin pouch, much heavier than you received this morning. "I am more curious to know more about this confederate of the Princes you believe is operating in Saltmarsh. Do you have any proof of this? It is a serious charge to level, especially now with things so delicately posed."

Looking at Skerrin, Gibson winks and lays a finger next to his nose as he says, "Ah, but there's the rub, my friend. Charges can't be leveled without a level subject to charge. Like I said, we're working an angle that may provide more information. Listen, all I can say is play this one close to the chest and don't let word get out that we may be onto something. You don't tell the fox there's a snare or it will just run back to its hole." Gibson levels a huge, toothy grin at the advisor.

Slowly turning his attention back to Anders, "As for the Pirates, we learned that, in addition to the contraband we brought back, they've been dealing arms to a nearby lizardfolk population. There's another shipment coming in two days time and we just happened to intercept communication detailing their signaling system. If his excellency is interested in retaining the services of Gib's Galumphing Good Guys..." He glances at the group again before continuing. "...we'd be happy to continue lending our particularly rare talents. But we'll, of course, have to discuss further pay (as much as I hate to bring it up). All this work is taking me away from the important work of my deeply-held religious obligations." Gibson holds a hand to his chest and looks pained. "The First Church of Cumian needs me! But if I'm able to procure funding for the new roof through these...secular means, I'm happy to take a brief sabbatical." Gibson levels his smile back at the young lord and waits expectantly.

At the mention of the lizardfolk, Anders and Skerrin share a nervous look. "Two days, you say? Hmmm. I think perhaps we need to contact the Council and call an emergency meeting. You are, of course, free to go with my thanks. Are you still at the Wicker Goat if I have need of you?"

Skerrin steps in standing between the Royal Councilor and your group. "Are you sure that is wise, sire? We have our suspicions and the prospect of airing them before the Council may spoil the element of surprise. You could, in your capacity of Lord Protector of Saltmarsh, engage...Gib's Galumphing Good Guys," you can practically hear the eyeroll as he says this "to intercept this shipment before it reaches the lizardfolk. If they receive arms with King Skotti's troops bogged down on the northern frontier, the town will be helpless."

Lord Anders scratches his chin. You notice the young man appears to be trying to grow a beard, pretty unsuccessfully. "I worry about circumventing the Council though..."

"Sod the Council! This is war, sire. You need to take a strong stand. Look at what happened to your mother." Skerrin hisses, showing a flash of anger, the first emotion you've seen from the elf so far. The display seems to jar even Lord Anders, who sits up a bit straighter.

"You're right, of course. Forgive me, old friend." He turns back to you. "We will certainly have need of you again it seems, to battle these scurrilous dogs and protect Saltmarsh from their depradations. Please meet me in my home the morning the next shipment is due in to Dilpas Manor. I promise you will be well-compensated for your service to this city. Please, go! Celebrate your success. We shall talk soon!"

(It is currently around 2 pm in the afternoon -- dinner at the Primewater Mansion is at 7 pm if you wish to go. If there is anything you want to do beforehand or instead, feel free. I listed most of the shops and some downtime activities you can pursue in the resources Doc and the OOC thread. I just ask that there be no more than two simultaneous groups for my own sanity. Or we can skip to dinner or the next day -- whatever y'all want to do.)

(OOC: Gibson wants to drop by Winston's Store to talk shop, catch up on gossip, and see if anything interesting has come through (goods or people). He's definitely planning on going to dinner. He doesn't trust Primewater and wants to get close and learn more about him. Plus he's never turned down a free meal before. Well... There was that one time...)

(OOC -- We'll say Arvastan begs off of dinner and disappears for the rest of the night. @inkedwolves can fill in the gaps of what the sea elf did when they get back. Anyone else have plans?)

(OOC: Hugh would go to some sort of tavern and drink some of his sores and wounds from the day off. Not necessarily looking for a fight, he really would just want to relax, and get just tipsy enough to make things interesting at the dinner that night.)

So, as some of you go your separate ways throughout the town of Saltmarsh, each group founds their newfound fame has traveled throughout the town.

At the Empty Net Tavern

Hugh (and anyone who accompanies him) enters through the doors of The Empty Net. The rowdiest tavern in town. Many of the regulars who are here give Hugh a nod of recognition as the brawler is a regular, both at the bar and at the fighting pits -- more of a small barge that is anchored to the pub from the docks below.

The bartender immediately pulls Hugh a pint of ale, sitting it in front of the barbarian in silence.

After a few quiet moments, there is a voice behind him. "Hugh Silverford. I knew you had brass ones, but I didn't quite know how big they were." The voice belongs to a human of middle age, handsome in a dissipated sort of way, with dark skin and neatly trimmed black hair with a mustache and goatee. The man is Kreb Shenker, known and feared throughout Saltmarsh for his shady connections, his ferocious temper, and his hatred of King Skotti.

He sits down next to Hugh and looks over the barbarian and and any companions with him. "Now, Hughie my boy. I heard about your little adventure, and I am disappointed. You're giving a damn when its not your turn to give a damn." He taps a finger against Hugh's skull. "You already lost a crew, mate. Are you really that anxious to see how much lower you can sink? You ought to know better than to go sticking your pecker in a beehive as big as the Sea Princes."

At Winston's General Store

As Gib and the others enter the store, you see a slovenly dressed gnome, with snowy hair and very well-manicured sideburns that meet in the center of his chin, hovering near a well-dressed pair of customers. The store itself is much smaller than most general stores you've been at, but the storage area behind the store front seem much larger. Gib, you recognize the customers as some folks you had "encouraged" to make a donation to your religious work. They look at one another, and the woman burrows closer to the man.

Seeing this, Winston assumes a very serious tone "Alright you. I heard about your Church of the Cumin nonsense. We'll be having none of that today, tiefling. Why I---" At this point the couple leaves and the gnome busts out laughing. "Ah, Gods. I could barely keep a straight face during all of that. Gib, you old dog! Tell me, what do you have for Uncle Winston today?" If there are any party members with him, Winston will shoot them a shrewd, appraising look and say loudly. "Gibson, my friend. Are these the investors that you were telling me about? The brilliant, kind, and discerning folks with the vision for the future who want to get very, very rich?"