Yahlgrin looks utterly baffled by Gib. He peers at the tiefling and snorts. "Name's Yahlgrin, sir. And I assure you, we know our business. Ain't no need for you to worry about the journey. We'll get you to the Prow sure enough. Whatever happens after that...well, only Procan knows." He mutters darkly. As Gibson walks past him, Yahlgrin scowls. "Bloody landlubbin' tinpot sailors..."

He snaps back to attention and nods at Hugh, allowing himself a small smile. "Good to met you, sir. I won a bundle on that fight between you and that one-eyed Goliath. Yer welcome aboard my vessel at any time."

Seeing Primewater stride purposefully below decks, Yahlgrin rushes to the front to join him, and you all see him furiously whispering with Primewater as the big merchant lord heads ffor the stairs.

Tul looks Wist up and down and then at the extended hand for a moment then reaches out and shakes it.

"I'm Tul Shirro," she says. "Do you know the crew of the Pale Prow? If their eye sight is enhanced by magic they might have the advantage, otherwise I have found that when it comes to obscuring your vision, fog tends not to discriminate."

She looks around the deck a moment longer. 

"I think I might prefer to stay up here. I don't recall the workspace of a ship's surgeon ever being a pleasurable experience. I remember a lot of blood and saws."

Dimma gives Tul a long, silent nod in agreement, "I do agree with Hugh, let's try not to give them the satisfaction of killing us."

Primewater and Yahlgrin lead those who follow down to the below decks area, where the crew is busily preparing the Zola's Favour for her journey. They reach the surgeon's quarters and barge in to see a shorter-than-average dwarf, smoking a pipe. He has black hair flecked with gray and a shortish, neatly trimmed beard, and two big, icy-blue eyes. 

"What ho, Bertie? Has that fat slob seen sense and called off his  plan to risk his fastest ship for a ridiculous vendetta against a teenaged boy?" He says, but then as Primewater enters, the dwarf looks genuinely stricken and the pipe falls from his lips.

"I regret to say I have not seen sense, Doctor. And this plan is less out of the any feelings I have for our Royal Protector and more about my patriotism as a subject of Keoland." Primewater purses his lips and looks around the doctor's small surgery, which, as Tul indicated, looks farily grim. There are dark stains in the wood where countless blood had been shed, and the small table where the dwarf must perform he surgeries is almost black from the staining. "Now, I was told you were entertaining Wist. I want him to meet his new charges."

The surgeon stammers for a moment, then points. "He's behind you, sir." 

Yahlgrin bites his lip in irritation, but Primewater laughs his rich, bored laughter. "Marvelous! Wist, you old scoundrel! You've done it again." Addressing any of the party who came down with him, the merchant says "This Genasi has done a few similar jobs to this one. He should be of immense value to you. He certainly is to me." He looks at Wist with apparently genuine fondness, then continues. 

"I have recommended a quick assault, guns blazing upon the Pale Prow, then a boarding party of you fellows to storm the ship and seize any material that may prove useful. Ideally, our cannons will thin out the opposition. Apparently, though, my position is not a popular one." He looks to the captain and the surgeon, both of whom look away. "You do have some time aboard where you can work out an alternate plan, but I would urge you to try and save the ship if you are able. It will be of immense value to you, for those of you who care for such things, like the fearless leader of this band." He says drily, indicating Gib to Wist.

"Unless there are other questions for me, I will take my leave, and you should be able to leave within the hour, correct captain?"

"Aye, sir. If'n we want to get there before night falls and the Prow moves into the open sea, we need to leave soon."

Wist stands with a smug smile about a successful lurk, having held back a laugh at the the surgeon's blunder.  He blushes tiny bit at the attention Primewater pays him though though, whatever shade of purple that may be.

"Sir, you need not worry at all that we'll be successful... but I have to agree with the captain, a galley like this won't stand toe to toe with a warship like the Prow.  Our crew's skilled though, and if these new folks actually brought along some tricks of their own I'm sure we'll manage to find a way aboard.  Tul seems to have a few ideas that we can workshop.  I'd like to keep Yalhgrin's ship in business, and if we can seize that one as well..."

He trails off, apparently day dreaming.

Spinning around and fixing the genasi with an appraising gaze, Gibson's ghoulish smile stretches to the sides of his face and beyond as he reaches out for a handshake. "Mr. Wiff'd! I'm sure it will prove to be an honor working with someone of whom Gellie here speaks so highly! The name's Gibson Lemonyellow, high priest of the First Church of Cumian, de facto leader and namesake of Gibson's Garrulous Galumphers. My friends call me 'Gib' so you can call me 'Gib'! I look forward to being surprised by whatever it is you may bring to the table." His eyes narrow slightly as he gives him a slow look up and down before turning his back to him and addressing Primewater.

"Due respect, Mr. Prizewater, but I seem to agree with this barmy lot. 'Full-frontal cannons and whatnot' isn't really our style. We are an elite team of infiltrators and negotiators first and foremost, you know! Some of us prefer a much more nuanced approach." He glances behind him to see if Hugh or Tul is there. "For that matter, wouldn't filling the ship with cannonball holes be a bit counterproductive if we're trying to...liberate it?" He pauses for a moment. "But we can work all that out on the way, as you say!"

Primewater smiles. "I have no doubt, dear boy. There's nothing quite like the thrill of ship-to-ship combat, but I know ol' Yahlgrin here is terrified of losing his boat. I shall leave it to you to determine how you make your approach. Proof that it was the Pale Prow and whosever standard she flies under killed Lord Anders's mother is all that matters." 

Yahlgrin bristles a bit. "Your boat, surely, sir. And you made your purposes crystal clear, sir. We won't let you down."

Primewater exits, heading back topside and eventually to the ship. He stops by Tul. "Make sure you come see me at my home when you return. First thing you should do. We shall prove that arrogant adolescent is every bit the schemer I believe he is, yet my dear Mistress Shiro." 

With that Primewater leaves, and Captain Yahlgrin turns to the assembled party. "Right. As I'm sure you all know, especially you, Mr. Lemonyellow, I am the captain of this ship, and whilst at sea, I am pretty much Councilor Primewater. It is approximately a five and three-quarters of an hour trip to Morningstar Island, so you have plenty of time to plan your approach. When we get close, all of us should discuss what you intend to do." He looks over each of you. "You know I am duty-bound to fulfill my employers orders, but I will tell you I will not risk my men needlessly for whatever Gellan believes is aboard that ship." He looks at Wist. "And you can tell 'im I said that, you gust of wind. Make yourselves at home, enjoy the sea air, and pray to whatever gods you pray to that nothing holds us up in our voyage. If we get delayed and get there after dark, we lose them completely, or worse yet, sail right into an ambush." He says gloomily, then lets the silence hang. "Right. To my post. The freedom of the ship is yours. See me if you have questions.

(Anything anyone wants to accomplish while at sea? )

"If anyone needs any metalwork done before we arrive, let me know," Dimma says, "Even in this place, Moradin can stoke the flames of his forge for us, if you've got the coin."

Hugh would spend most of his time on the deck of the ship, savoring the sea like old times. If anybody approaches him, he would willingly make conversation, and if at any time he was called to begin crafting a plan of attack, he would be happy to do so. 

Tul walks the deck for a little while after they set sail, feeling the sea breeze on her face. It's tempting she thinks to herself. And it would be so much easier. But she has set herself on a path and she can't leave it now. But there's nothing wrong with the sound of the smashing waves and the taste of salt in the air making her smile for a bit.

Finally she turns and goes in search of Captain Yahlgrin.

She bows slightly in greeting.

"Captain, do you know how Councilor Primewater came to know the Pale Prow was anchored at Morning Star Island?" Tul asks the Captain. "And did his information tell him how close to the island the ship is? I ask as I'm curious if coming over land to the ship makes more sense. If it's close enough to shore that we could easily swim to it, we could anchor in a different cove, cross part of the island and make are way onto the ship with no one knowing until it was too late."

Seeing Tul speaking with the captain, Gibson wanders over to listen in. As she finishes speaking, he suddenly takes a big gulp of air and runs to the edge of the boat and retches over the side.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he returns with a weak chuckle. "Must've been that muffin at the Solmor House... Please, carry on. While I'm typically the brains of this operation, I do love hearing the rather...quaint ideas from the rest of the group!" He smiles but his teeth aren't quite as bright as usual.

The gnome captain, standing at the helm, bows when Tul approaches in answer of her greeting. He removes the pipe from his mouth and released a smoke ring into the air. It already feels a bit cooler out here on the sea. You hear the tremendous effort of the sailors down below heaving the oars of the ship and making the Saltmarsh docks seem more and more distant with each passing moment. Yahlgrin listen thoughtfully to Tul and then sighs.

"Mister Primewater's reports of activity in the area tend to be pretty spot on, mum. I hadn't heard of any of the company's other ships in the area, but I'm sure you are aware that the gaffer has a number of other connections." Yahlgrin looks a bit uncomfortable. "I'm sure someone's watching the ship even now. Just like you lot have eyes on you too." His gaze flicks over to Whist, then back again, shivering.

"Its my understanding that the ship has been given access to shelter in one of the island's coves for a spell by Baron Fortune himself. He's an odd sort. Met him twice. Both times something felt off, like he was some sort of predator sizing me up. We'd need his permission to set foot on the island. Of course, with that fog that cursed ship brings with it, land may be the safest approach for you lot. 

The captain is about to speak more when Gib's retching interrupts him. Captain Yahlgrin bites the stem of his pipe and coughs, transparently and unsuccessfully to hide a laugh at Gib's seasickness. "Ahem.  I didn't know that tieflings came in that particular shade of green." He sighs. "Of course, it's too much to hope that the captain of the Prow would just talk to your crew? Save us all a bit of trouble and very likely lives on both sides."

"Uh...yes! Of course, that would be our first choice of tactic. But Tul, here, never misses an opportunity to put a foot through something or someone!" He flashes another off-color smile. "So what can you tell us of the captain of the Prow? Do we know anything about them?"

Captain Yahlgrin chews his mustache thoughtfully. "Captain is an elf named Ineca Sufocan. Only member of the crew that's ever been observed. He's said to be very elegant, very charming, but also absolutely bloodthirsty. Reports from survivors of confirmed attacks have been truly awful. He and the other members of the crew have said to have engaged in some very ungodly...depredations towards those they capture."

He looks at Tul and Gib in turn, hard, puffing on the pipe. "Even the Sea Princes have a code. From what I've heard from other sailors, in Saltmarsh and in other ports I've been, The Pale Prow observes no laws, recognizes no authority other than force. There has to be some other force behind them, but what that is..." he shrugs. "Well, that's your problem. I only ask you don't make it my problem."

"Interesting... Interesting." Gibson strokes his chin as he digests this new information. "So you say this Ineca character observes no laws and recognizes no authority other than force and yet your Baron Fortune grants him access to the cove for shelter." He chews the corner of his lip as he tries to recall anything he's heard about Morningstar Island and Baron Fortune. Specifically, their reputation (what is the island known for?) and their relationship with the kingdom (is it part of Keoland, the Hold of the Sea Princes, unaffiliated?)

History: 4

Gib -- you know that Morningstar Island is part of a loose confederation of islands off the coast of Keoland and are part of the contested lands between Keoland and the Duchy of Ulek, one of the powers at war with Keoland. You haven't heard of Baron Fortune, but there have been tales of local leaders elevating themselves to nobility and attempting to play both sides off one another -- knowing that both King Skotti and Duke Ulek would be anxious to have the support of locals.

As you explain all this, Captain Yahlgrin gives you a curt nod. "Aye. And Baron Fortune is the smartest of the lot and the most ruthless. Even some of the other islands are starting to rally under his banner. I doubt he'd make a move to stop you if you take the Prow, but depending on what you're planning, you may need to see him. The Baron appreciates...let's just say courtesy."

There is a call from the crow's nest above. "Fog back ahead, sir!"

Yahlgrin sighs. "Hold onto your horns, Mr. Lemonyellow. We travel here on out in almost zero visibility. I'd recommend going below decks now, if I were you."

Wist takes in a deep breath of the fog laden sea air and breathes it out slowly, with a low and quiet whistle.  He shakes out head, arms and, shoulders as if to shake off stress and loosen his muscles, then trots eagerly over to the main mast of the ship (It does have masts right? I know there were oars mentioned before).  Wist heads as high as he can get to the crows nest or topmost deck and scans the horizon to get a sense of the distance visible both through and perhaps over the fog.

"I love the fog! Can I help you navigate Cap'n?" he shouts down.

“If the Baron is as you say then I think over land to talk to him first might be fruitful. Best to only have enemies on one side if we can help it,” Tul says as they enter the fog.

Gibson pauses with hands on hips, grimaces, takes a deep breath to steady himself, and heads below decks with the group. Firing off a telepathic thought to the retreating form of Wist-in-the-mist, he says "We're going below to formulate our strategy. When you're finished playing, it would probably benefit us all to have you in on the plan..."

Once below, Gibson pulls up a chair/crate/barrel and sits with his head between his knees for a minute.

Coming up for air, he says, "I think you may be onto something, there, Tul. But I'd take it a step further, still..." Gibson audibly gulps and sighs. "Nothing in our directives require us to make an enemy of either party. We're after information and nothing more. Mind you, I quite like the idea of owning a legendary ghost ship! But if our goal is a lucrative payday AND keeping our skins attached to our bones, I don't fancy picking any unnecessary fights with pirates of myth and legend!" His eyes grow wide for a moment as he sways uneasily in his seat. "What I'm trying to say is that I agree: Approaching Baron Fortune on dry ground might be our best course of action. We can offer him favor with Saltmarsh's top merchants as well as the royal councilor for the low, low price of a positive introduction to the elusive Captain Succotash."

Gibson sits back to regard the group. "Unless anyone objects, I think it would be wise to tell the captain to steer clear of the Prow and head for shore...?"

Tul looks carefully at Gibson, waiting. But then she realizes that there isn't any wild scheme or hyperbolic suggestions of grandeur to follow,  just a succinct, calm, rationale plan. She almost laughs but catches herself.

"I agree with Gibson," Tul says. "At this point all we can be sure of is that Primewater is using us for his own ends. We may still need to defeat the crew of the Pale Prow but if gaining Baron Fortune's favor can gets us on the ship without having to fight our way on board that would be worth it alone."

She looks over to Gib.

"I would vote for being put on shore away from the Prow."