This part of the Collinsport docks is quite busy during the day, but as night falls, it starts getting comparatively deserted... normally, anyway...

Fishermen and other sailors are just securing their ships and boats for the evening...

Harry's day is spent working the nets and the shrouds in equal measure. Her gruff, businesslike manner does not go unnoticed by those she toils beside, but neither does her knowledge of and affinity for the work. In the end, a strong back and sturdy sea-legs win her more approval that her demeanor. Day's end finds her stowing nets alongside her shipmates while checking them for damage, and swabbing the deck in preparation for the next day's fishing. She waits for the more senior crew to receive their pay before seeking her own.

Harry happens to overhear part of a conversation between two sailors not far away. "...It's a good thing we have that new doctor in town..." says an old salt slowly coiling rope. "You hear what happened to that woman last night? Turrible, turrible..."

Harry attempts to unobtrusively eavesdrop, knowing the value of sailors' scuttlebutt. She attempted to do the same throughout the day, though the environment did not prove conducive as well she expected. Not with the wind and the waves and the gulls and the work-calls, she muses privately. Calmer, quieter now we're docked.

"Yeh, I herd abou' it," says the other old salt. "Some madman, I reckon. No woman deserves a beatin' like that. But it was someone she'd never seen before, she sez, an' I wouldn' trust the police in this town t' catch so much as a lobster if they saw it walkin' down th' street..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:11, Tue 10 Apr 2018.

Harry files away the information, finishes her work, and makes sure she is the last crewmember to pick up her pay. "What's this I hear about a woman getting attacked last night?" she asks the captain, after the other deckhands have gone. "Things like this happen a lot in Collinsport? Troubling, if so."

"...No... not often... normally... but every two or three generations... some kind of trouble starts. Strange, bad trouble. The troubles never come one at a time, either. And now, there are signs that such things are here again... These promise to be dark times..."

As a Collinsport native, Harry knows all about 'strange, bad trouble' and the accompanying 'dark times'. "Just my luck," she grunts in response, then bids the captain farewell. Gathering up her pay, she disembarks and heads directly to Doctor McKenzie's office.