In reply to Morgrim Ironhammer (msg # 31):

Arnan smiled at Dalgura's comment, and Morgrim's reply. "Well, you could fall off the dock. And we all know that stones swim better than Dwarves."

"So, aye, wouldn't hurt to have somebody else along."

"I'm ready if you are," he said, finishing off the rest of his ale and rising to his feet.

Kira just bobbed her head, good with either option but it seemed as if perhaps Dal was wanting some girl time.  "So all the guys are going while we sit by the fire all comfy ... sounds good to me," she said with a grin.  "Wonder if they have hot buttered rum?" she pondered, thinking that would be a nice warming drink.

Kadie provides the adventurers food and drink and has a servant prepare lodging accomodations for the group while Morgrim and Arnan head down to Knucklehead Harbor to inquire with the locals about Helda Silverstream.

Arnan and Morgrim are soon walking along the boardwalk, a row of storehouses used for processing and smoking knucklehead trout on one side and the line of fishing vessels bobbing slightly in the docks on the other. Several fishermen and women are gathered here, all invariably discussing the distant smoke on the horizon and cursing the current state of affairs.

It doesn't take much to convince the locals to share the source of their dissent: a pair of Caer-Dineval's boats did not come back to port yesterday. This after repeated harassment of many local fishing vessels by the Howling Fiend crew. To a man and woman, those gathered here at the docks squarely lay blame for the smoke on the horizon at the feet of Derrick the Drownder and his "no good Black Ice crew!"

Turning to the subject of Helda, a grizzled bald fisherman with a wooly slate gray beard says, "Yea. There was a dwarf lady who came through these parts a couple days ago. Booked passage to Easthaven aboard the Tundra Hawk..." He further explains the Tundra Hawk is one of the boats that never came back to port. He also says she was traveling with her uncle, "Supposedly some big shot from up there in the Valley. No idea why they were down here, but there you have it."

"That could be them," Morgrim said, exchanging a glance with Arnan. "Seems like an awfully circuitous route to take to get back to Bryn Shander, but I'd be hard pressed to call it a coincidence given how difficult the roads have been of late. Not just anyone is out there wandering the taiga."

"I don't suppose anyone would be willing to charter us a boat?" Morgrim continued hopefully, turning his attention back to the fisherman. He suspected the answer would not be in the affirmative however... not while this Derrick fellow was prowling the waters.

"Does anyone know where Derrick lays anchor when hes not busy causing all havoc?"

Thane elected to stay behind at the Inn.  "Unless you think you need more muscle, I'll stay here, Morgrim.  Besides.  I get the idea that folk up here don't like Luskan's very much," he said quietly with a covert glance at the occupants of the room.

Once Arnan and Morgrim had left, Thane took a long draught from his hot spiced cider, set the mug down, and looked with all seriousness at Dalgura.

"Thing got pretty tense back there with them other dwarves.  Is your brother always so foolhardy?  He almost dragged us into a fight best not had."

In reply to Morgrim Ironhammer (msg # 35):

Arnan had been standing off to one side, his arms crossed across his chest, listening as Morgrim took the lead talking to the locals on the dock. It occurred to him that it was a little unusual for a Dwarf to be better at chatting up people than a Human, but then most Humans weren't loners to the extent that Arnan himself was.

A thin smile played about the corners of his mouth when Morgrim asked where the lake-pirate might anchor when he was not actively raiding. ~Now that's a good thought. Can we surprise this bastard and hit him when he's not expecting it, instead of letting him pick the time and place -- which most likely means whilst we're out in the middle of the lake, with him and his people aboard this black-ice ramming-ship of his, armed to the teeth and spoiling for a fight?~

Morgrim finds a crew willing to ferry the party to Easthaven for 50 gp.

Asking around the docks for Derrick's whereabouts elicits no solid leads. Of course everyone knows who he is and where he stayed when he lived in Caer-Dineval, but as to his current whereabouts, nobody really knows.

Dal didn't answer until she had a couple of sips from her drink in her.  Then she looked at Thane and shrugged her shoulders.  " He is a Dwarf.  We expect our people to welcome us.  If they don't then it is an insult.  While most races are stubborn, I think Dwarves take it to the next level.  Yes a fight wouldn't have been good but he can be reasoned with."

Morgrim asks the crew to be ready to leave in the morning unless he sent word otherwise. Unable to track down Derrick's present whereabouts, he settled for the man's past, heading for whatever domicile the Drownder once called home.

Thane munched on some bread while he considered Dalgura's words.  "That's good to know.  Your brother is an unholy terror when it comes to a fight, seein' how he can turn into a snarling beastie.  I'd rather not have to face him down again."

Thane arched his back to stretch those muscles and yawned.  It really had been a tiring day.  "There must be something odd about this black ice," he wondered.  "I never heard about any other kind of ore from the earth that affects people's minds the way this stuff does.  Not even gold or platinum!  To turn us away just because they thought we wanted to get our hands on some of it..." he finished, eyebrow cocked and a quizzical expression on his face.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:11, Tue 26 Sept 2017.

Kira sat with them and sipped on her mug and nibbled at the bread.  There was a definite grin when Thane spoke of Morgrim turning into a snarling beastie.  "That was awesome," she muttered.  She had been concerned as well when he'd wanted to fight his way into the mountain but she wouldn't have abandoned him or Dal.  "I'm thinkin' it's more than the minds it's messin' with but I've always had an overactive imagination."

In reply to Kira (msg # 42):

Dal ate a few bites and nodded.  "I've seen more than one race get affected by possessiveness.  This carries it to a different level.  There are stories told where greed broke up clans even.  They are sad tales indeed."

"Yes, it was!" Thane agreed emphatically.  "Set me on edge seein' it for the first time, but thinking back on it...WOW!"

Then he shifted his attention to his two female companions.  "We working pretty well as a team, I think.  You two certainly are showing what you're capable of," he encouraged them.  "In my time back home, I didn't have much dealings with women-at-arms.  The Captain didn't truck much with women as guards and soldiers, so you're showing me things that are new."

He emptied his mug and called for another.  "I hate it when some folk get the notion that they can take advantage over others, like this dread pirate seems to be doing."

Kira chuckled at Thane, shaking her head.  "You didn't go too deeply into the poorer quarters of Luskan did you?  There were lots of women there who know how to use a knife or sword."

Following directions provided by one of the dockworkers, Morgrim and Arnan walk a short distance to a series of small shacks clustered behind a dock warehouse. Apparently Derrick lived in one of these poor excuses for a domicile. Consisting of little more than 4 timber-hewn walls built up around a single room spanning no more than 10 feet square, if that, it's hard to imagine anyone dwelling in hovels such as these, particularly in a cold climate environment. No wonder Derrick is purported to be mean-spirited!

In any event, Arnan and Morgrim are soon standing in front of Derrick's hovel. Both windows are boarded shut and judging from the fact no smoke is coming from the chimney, nobody is inside.

"Well," Morgrim said after a moment. "Doesn't look like anyone's home."

Placing his hand upon the door he gave it a shove, and if that failed to do the trick he was prepared to put his shoulder into it.

In reply to Morgrim Ironhammer (msg # 47):

"Nay, it doesn't," Arnan replied as he ran his eyes over the shoddy, run-down shack.

"Too bad. I'd much prefer to hand out some rough justice to this Derrick here and now, instead of mayhaps having to deal with him out on the lake, at a time of his choosing."

"Oh, I didn't think we'd find him here," Morgrim replied. "But could be we find something that tells us where to look."

In reply to Morgrim Ironhammer (msg # 49):


"Aye, you're probably right," Arnan said, nodding. "Truth be told, he probably hasn't stayed here for quite some time, now."

"And as to mayhaps discovering something useful in there -- only one way to find out."

"You got that door, or will my shoulder be useful?"

The wooden door yields easily with but the slightest of shoves and Arnan and Morgrim are soon breaking and entering another man's home. Within the dusty one-room residence are all the typical trappings one might expect to find in a bachelor's home. In addition to the sparsest of furnishings and a meager larder that consists of little more than a quarter-filled sack of beans, a few legs of salted and dried mutton, and a vat of lard, a stock of dried fish, Arnan and Morgrim find a wide variety of hooks, rope, lines, lures, reels, bobbers, sinkers and other fishing implements. These fill numerous empty ale sacks lined up against a wall opposite the stone hearth.

Morgrim wandered about the small domicile with the occasional grunt, looking over the personal effects but also casting his eye about for that which was less obvious - the crooked floorboard or crumbling masonry about the hearth that might indicate a concealed hiding place. Morgrim presumed he wasn't the first person through the shack since Derrick had last vacated it, and anything obvious would have already wandered off. He was left looking for the things that were less obvious to an incurious observer.

22:09, Today: Morgrim Ironhammer rolled 18 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 13.  Perception.

Morgrim carefully searches the small room, pacing back and forth across the wooden planks several times before finally noticing a loose floorboard! Bending down, the dwarf pulls at the corner of the plank, lifting it from the floor. Hidden beneath the floorboard he finds a bundle of a few sheets of paper rolled together and bound with a piece of twine. The papers contain what looks to be a log of the comings and goings of Easthaven's ships and cargo. The penmanship is quite neat and the logs go back a couple of ten-days. The author is listed as Mr. Connelly.

Meanwhile, back at Dinev's Rest, as the adventurers enjoy successive rounds of drinks, they clearly overhear the grumbling of local fishers about a pair of Luskanites that have been nosing around trying to draw protection money out of them. Apparently these men from the south have been offering to paint boats with elaborate  sigils, supposedly magical wards that guarantee protection from the pirates of Lac Dinneshere. A few nervous fishermen have bought into this scheme, but most flatly refused.

A different take on the protection racket the adventurers first learned of in Bryn Shander, but uncannily familiar nonetheless.

Kira chuckling drew Thane's attention. 
Thane cocked his head like a dog would upon hearing a strange sound.  He wiped his mouth with sleeve of his shirt.

"Nope, didn't have the time or opportunity," he replied with the hint of a frown.  "You see, my life since I was little more than haunch-high to an ox was soldiering."  Thane glanced at Dalgura, curious if she remembered much of his life story, told to her in his formerly garbled Dwarven.  "Luskan soldiers, the real ones, not them so-called soldiers of the individual ship's Captains, are taken in at a young age and apprenticed.  It's not easy and there's not much time for aught but learning the ways of armor, weapon, shield, and team tactics."

He considered Kira for a moment and his visage softened.  "But I get your meaning.  I know how rough the streets can be.  I fought my share of self-taught thugs while in service to Luskan.  Not a one of them was good at team work, and almost all of them were men.  Maybe the women had more sense than to tangle with the guard or were just better at not getting caught?  Either way, you both have skill, more than I thought at first, and I admire you for it.  I think we make a good team."

Thane settled back to relax a moment and take in the other goings-on in the room.  His face soured when he overheard the talk of Luskans being involved in another protection racket.  He sighed and shook his head, then leaned forward to brace himself on his elbows.

"You hear that?" he asked Kira and Dal in a low voice.  "Could it be the same ones that fled Bryn Shander?"

This message was last edited by the player at 13:55, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

Morgrim shook the sheaf of papers at Arnan. "I may have something here." Settling the board back into place, he beckoned the ranger to follow. "Lets head back and find the others. Maybe someone at the inn will know who this Mr. Connelly is."