Chapter 24

It’s early evening when the group makes it back to the Iron Vulture and settles into the common area below deck to discuss their next move. Only a few minutes passes before Dolor hears scratching on the outside of the hull, close to one of the small round windows. Peering out the glass, Dolor sees Rightside hanging off the side of the ship, his claws digging into the sill surrounding the window. “I heard some news. Can…umm…can I come in…now, please?”

After Rightside scrambles through the porthole into the ship’s common area, Dolor chastises him. “Next time, walk up the gang plank like everyone else. A dry tabaxi makes less of a ruckus than a drenching wet one who’s fallen from the side of a ship into the harbor water.”

“Oh, oh, hide in plain sight! Great idea!”

Mond looks kindly at Rightside, “it’s good to see you, friend. What have you heard?”

“A ship came into the harbor yesterday and docked close to that warehouse of Davanor’s you’re interested in. Yes, yes, ships do that all the time, but this is different. Not many ships coming and going the last few days, right. Have you heard of the big storm out in the sea? It’s keeping the ships from getting in or out of Elesemar’s bay, and I mean all the ships…except for this one! People are talking. How were they able to get through storms that no other captains can, experienced captains, mind you? Something’s up.”

Suddenly, Rightside’s eyes dart to a small shiny piece of brass reflecting the lamp light and he goes quiet for a moment while fixated on the glimmering metal.

Slowly, his gaze moves away from the shiny object and he continues his tale. “I got close enough to hear some of the workers at the warehouse say that they’ll unload it at 10 PM tonight, after things settle down on the dock and streets.”

“That’s good information, and timely too. Thank you, Rightside,” says Dolor.

With some discussion, the group decides to watch the ship unload later that night from the cover and supposed comfort of Weigh Anchor, a dive bar across the street with a decent view of the ship and the warehouse. Mond will remain at the Iron Vulture, watching from the crow’s nest with a broader view of the ship, harbor, warehouse, and streets.

Realizing that they’re slightly cleaner than the usual patron at Weigh Anchor, the group is discussing how to dirty themselves up a bit when Cap’n Don pokes his head up from the underbelly of the ship. He’s covered in charcoal colored grease and grime, “Och, that damnable piece o’ machinery!” Finding himself facing the surprised adventurers, “ony o’ ye able tae swing a big ol’ hammer?”

With a smirk on her face, Gven stands up from a stool and makes her way over to the hatch. The Cap’n smiles, “Aye, ye’ll dae fine, A’m sure o’ it!”

The rest of the group follows Gven down the hatch, into the confines of the ship’s inner sanctum. They see all sorts of gadgets, gears, and knobs; things they’ve never seen on a sailing vessel before. Mond, in particular, is fascinated by what he sees, mumbling to himself as he traces pipes to fixtures and gauges to knobs.

Cap’n Don hands Gven a large hammer, larger than most full-grown humans could lift with one hand, and points at a metal pipe. “Richt there, gie ‘er a guid ol’ smackering!” Gven lifts the long-handled hammer with both hands, swings back as far as she’s able, given the limited space in the hold, and smacks the shit out of the pipe right where the captain told her to. “Again!” Another solid hit. “Hmm, yin mair oughta dae it.” With a slight grunt, Gven gives the pipe one more solid whack with the big hammer. They hear a loud “ka-thunk,” which is only a second’s warning before the confined room is suddenly filled with thick, dark fumes from an exhaust pipe somewhere in the mix of machinery.

As the dust settles, Cap’n Don excitedly yells—because he’s pretty hard of hearing at this point in the repair process—to no one in particular, “that’s it! Ye did it, ye wonderfully ginormous barbarian ship fix’r!” The group looks at each other and realizes they are now sufficiently camoflauged for visiting the Weigh Anchor.

A few hours later, close to 10 PM—leaving Mond on the Iron Vulture, watching from the crow’s nest—Dolor, Bilwin, Gven, and Grindlefoot walk over to the Weigh Anchor for a beer, and to discreetly surveil the ship and warehouse. Entering the establishment, they discover it to be long and narrow, barely wide enough to house the bar and stools that run its length. A very large bartender looms behind the empty counter, wearing tight leather pants and a sleeveless shirt made of fish net. They’re wiping a dirty rag across the parts of the bar they can reach. The half-ogre barely looks up at them, merely grunting at their presence while continuing to lift the dirty rag a few feet off the bartop, slamming it down, sliding it to the side, and repeating the process in the other direction. It’s surprisingly rhythmic, like a metronome for drinking.

They order beers and set themselves up outside the front door, where they have a decent view of the ship and warehouse front door. The beer is weak, but not horrible. Grindlefoot gets excited, holding a mug larger than his whole arm, “they served me a whole pint!”

An hour later, the light has dimmed and those with darkvision are able to clearly see the area between the ship and the warehouse, due to the lack of streetlamps. They notice a small procession of 6-8 figures carrying large crates from the ship to the warehouse, which they repeat a few times before remaining in the warehouse. Most of the crew appeared to be standard guards or laborers, wearing leather armor and carrying small weapons. Two of them were dressed differently, wearing cowls. The two spoke with the warehouse guards for a short time before entering the warehouse behind the laborers. There were no crates or merchandise loaded on to the ship from the warehouse, only unloaded from the ship.

Watching for another 45 minutes, they don’t see any more movement between the ship and warehouse. The figures they witnessed are still in the warehouse, but they can’t tell what’s happening inside. Dolor and Grindlefoot, who is slightly drunk from his full pint, amble back to the Iron Vulture to check in with Mond. His reports match what they saw from the Weigh Anchor. Leaving the ship, they ask Mond to keep an eye on things while the others speak with Tella, at the Broken Spy Glass.

Waiting for Dolor and Grindlefoot to return, Bilwin and Gven go inside the Weigh Anchor to settle up with the barkeep, Boog. Obviously, the dock workers sitting at the bar are used to the half-ogre’s methodical way of cleaning the bartop. They unconsciously raise their smeared pints of beer after each thump of the washrag hitting the counter to avoid the rough swipe that follows.

With the tab settled and the four together again, they decide to investigate the perimeter of the warehouse as they leave the pub. Perhaps they’ll find an easy way inside under the cover of darkness, but alas, no such luck. Although, Dolor hears murmering inside the building, it’s in a rhythmic lilting tone.

The group reaches the Broken Spy Glass about 1 AM, open the door to see Tella behind the bar, and a few patrons slouching over their half-empty pints.

“Never mind them,” Tella says as he gestures at the others in the inn. “They’ll never remember where they were or when, let alone what we might have said during that elusive time in their minds.”

From their short discussion with Tella, who recruited them to help the Heart of the People, they learn that the captain who braved the storm to make the delivery to Davanor was heard to have told the harbormaster, “If you know how to read the weather, the path is clear.” Mysterious, yet it might point to some arcane assistance.

Tella doesn’t know anything about Amonah, but will ask some of the city’s librarians who are friends or support the Heart of the People. Librarians know more than most people think they do and are underutilized because of it.