Turn 2:  1 June 1000.  At the Flying Fish Inn

Myridian and Avaon are leaning toward each other talking quietly in elvish."Did I say 'we'?" She blinks her eyelids innocently. After a moment's pause of eyeing Avon thoughtfully, she leans forward and speaks rather businesslike. "All right, all right. Your intuition has proven correct, I am a purveyor of the magical arts. I'm called Myridian, self-named, self-sufficient. I wasn't looking to search for any Dwarven high and mighty, but then again, I'm currently unemployed, so I'm not going to be choosy. Could be fun." She shrugs. "And as for you, Mr. Avon... thieves have always been some of my favorite people... after my own heart, they are." She smiled and sat back, crossing her arms. "So, there you have it."

"So since that is settled", Avon smiles a big smile, "now we have to decide what we are going to do. Are we going to do this by ourselves, or should we join that group" he nods his head towards the table with the blond elven woman. "Not a very tactical thing to do, making such a public announcement but it seems there is a group forming. I mean, something like, if you can't beat them at least make a profit out of them." Avon sips his drink, while he is saying this he sits casual in his chair. "We could use a little muscle anyway, right?", Avon eyes Myridian, "I have this strange feeling we are some how very alike you and I. If we stick together in this one I think we can get considerable profit out of it," he scratches his goatee. "So what do you say, shall we join these, uhm, very discreet people so we can safe the day", he laughs "and become heroes. I would like that a lot being a hero." It seems Avon begins to fantasize as he seems to be a little distracted.

The "very discreet" people at the next table are gathering around Alexa, a short elf, blonde and beautiful.

Alexa smiles and thanks all who had joined her table.Asks if anyone knows any information.If no leads then perhaps searching the streets questioning people.Or if anyone has a good suggestion on what to do.And of course split the money between all involved evenly.  Sandros is just pulling up a chair, and Ven is coming across the room to the table.  Tavarak is already there, having been drawn as a bee to honey.

Tavarak looks around the table and smiles, "Ok then I shall go first, I've been to the Horned Toad Tavern, a fine establishment if ever one graced this town. Too bad the information that floats about wasn't as fine as their wine. If we are to believe anything that was bantered about the dwarf was either gobbled up by the earth or wisked away by a dragon. Neither of those possibilities sounds very plausible if you ask me. All in All not a very productive evening."

Tav looks at his compainons as they share their tales, before leaning back and pondering for a minute. "Hmmmm you know i think what we need to do is to think like a kidnapper. What would we do had we planned this operation? I think there are a number of options that they would have, perhaps to carry him away by sea or to keep him tucked away in town until things died down. And of course we can not discount the possibility of him being magically transported to who knows where. This is a large city, but there are only so many ways out, and each one has sentries posted. Perhaps he wasn't taken out of the city at all. Perhaps they, whoever they are have him hidden away in some little cubby hole here in the city. If we can figure out the WHY we may be able to figure out the WHO and we can go from there."

Sandros listens to some of the man's theories before speaking. "I've heard a thing or two since I've been wandering about here, myself...things like the caves near the mountains, or the swamp. They may be a couple of places to consider. As for something else I heard..." Sandros leans forward, gesturing for the others to lean in as well. Whispering, he says, "Anyone know a fellow named Jarg? Apparently he's keeping some group together for some reason...for the next three weeks. And there was some mention of 2 hours from low tide as well...and that the guild may know something." He shrugs, and leans back, eyeing them all a moment longer. "Perhaps someone in our little group has connections...in the shadier side of the city? Usually, when once speaks of THE guild...they mean a certain one involving those outside the laws of society. Maybe they would know something...?" Sandros glances at each person in turn, waiting to see if anyone will 'fess up to such connections. Then, seeming almost bored, he picks up his balls of twine and his half-eaten apple, and leaning back in his chair, begins to juggle once more. "We definitely need more information before we try anything further, that's for sure..."

"Well, I'm new to the city," Ven spoke up after Sandros looked his way. "So, I don't know anything about the Guild. But, according to Kormar over there," he gestures to the man he had been sitting with before joing the group at the table, "the half-orc who went upstair a few minutes ago is one of Jarg's men."

Having overheard a little of this, Myrmidian nods to Avon. Her eyes widen joyfully at the thought of profit. "Oooo... yes... I do believe we're peas of the same pod, my dear Avon." She grins widely, and then casts a look over at the group formed at the other table. "As for them..." she says, slipping her hand in her pocket, "I agree... they're not the most... discrete bunch. But then again..." She leans close to whisper, so that no one but Avon can hear. "Those warrior types always were the mush for brains variety!" She leans back. "Make good friends, though, if you know what I mean." She wriggles her eyebrows as she scoots back her chair. "Shall we, then?"

Avon slowly and thoughtfully puts down his glass of wine. He places his hands on the site of the comfortable chair he was sitting in and pushes himself up and walks casually towards the group of people sitting at the table. Avon is a male half elf. He is dressed in brown woolen clothes, and has a worn green cloak around his shoulders. He wears a big earring in his left ear and has he sharp face. His brown hair looks spiky and he has a small goatee. His dark brown eyes look as if they are about to shoot fire. Despite his somewhat shady appearance he has some sort of charisma that makes him interesting.

Avon looks at the group of adventurers gathered at the table, then coughs, "Hmmm, an interesting conversation you got going here. Very interesting indeed. I have to warn you though, normally such, uhm, carelessness might get you killed. However today might just be your lucky day. Let me introduce myself", Avon makes a small bow towards the table, not entirely without sarcasm. "I am Kerr Avon, but please call me Avon. And well, " he pauses, "me and my.... partner over there", Avon makes a vague gesture in towards the woman he was talking to earlier, "couldn't help overhearing you were talking about rescuing this dwarven prince. Well it's not as if you tried to be secretive about it" he smiles he big smile.

He walks around the table, "It just so happens that Myridian and I have some... talents that might come in handy when you go looking for this prince, or whatever he might be. All we ask for is a fair share of what ever treasure or reward we might receive. So ladies and gentleman, do we have ourselves a deal?"

Sandros nods. "It seems so... we were just discussing what we've learned." He turns back to his original thought "...In fact, it was the half-orc's words that I overheard. It just seems strange to me that we'd be looking at a group of people that are being kept together for some purpose...for a three week period...while our dwarven friend has been kidnapped. To me, it would almost seem that it would be our kidnappers, perhaps. There was mention that Jarg would have a tough time keeping them together that long." The juggling act continues through his entire dialog, almost as if he's not even aware he's juggling anymore.

Myridian sits down beside Avon, then, casting about a look at each one seated at the table, and making a little waving motion with her hand in greeting so as not to interruption the conversation going about.

"Has there been a demand for payment, with a deadline. Like, oh...say...three weeks?" Sandros grins. "If so, I'd say Jarg it our man. And that we need to go after him somehow, maybe through our half- orc friend upstairs."

Glancing over his shoulder, still juggling, Sandros says in a lower tone, "I also heard from our four stew-eating friends some mention of splitting money in twenty ways. Could be twenty men in Jarg's group." He shrugs, nearly sending his balls of twine skittering away from his graceful hands. Sighing, he stops juggling, and leans back toward the table, placing his elbows there to rest and putting his chin in his hands.

"So...what do you folk think? Shall we have a talk with the half-orc?"

The juggler juggles... others are still getting acquainted with the room itself. After all, it's been merely a few hours since the arrival of the various and sundry adventurers in the city. The discussion is just getting underway at Alexa's table. Over at another table, Avon and Myrmidian have their heads together, speaking in hushed voices.

Jan and crew [the folk who had been eating stew] begin to gather themselves. The human female among them stops to speak quietly with Aglora, causing her to reach behind and thump the poor serving boy on the noggin. "Draw a hot bath for the lady, Lump!" Eventually they head upstairs and much thumping of feet is heard overhead.

The poor overtaxed stairway is burdened again... This time it is Tavarak's erstwhile roommate -- the half-orc who wears the Sign of Illuvitar. He is clumping down the steps, buckling his short sword beneath a cloak. Keen-eyed observers note that he is wearing a bandolier as well... could be a money belt, could be something else. He strides purposefully toward the front door and heads out into the deepening shadows of late afternoon

Tavarak looks on with interest as Sandros and Ven relate their information. "Hmmm yes thats a good point Sandros, both the caves and the swamps would provide good hold up locations for kidnappers." He smiles and relaxes a bit more, feeling a new comfort level with the company at the table.

Tavarak turns and watches his departing roomie, "Hmmm perhaps we should follow him and see where he is going. We could also search is belongings in the room. Seeng as one good turn deserves another." Tav chuckles "I think he went thru my gear earlier, nothing was missing mind you. Failing finding out anything significant, perhaps we should look into getting a legal charter to search for the dwarf, you never know when those things might come in handy."

Alexa responds "Perhaps we should split into 3 groups.someone to search his room.2 to follow him and 2 to get the legal charter for all of us" Then adds "Maybe Tavarak should search his belomgings since it is his room as well and If any two of you have say,stealthy qualities should follow the half-orc.Then I guess that leaves me and the other to get the lagal charter and see what other info we can find then meet back here after we are done"

Tavarak looks at Alexa and nods "Yes that sounds like a good plan. but if its all the same to you, i'd rather go for the charter. I wouldn't want him to magic me in the middle of the night to see if i snooped in his gear." Tav chuckles "This way I will be able to deny ever having touched his stuff. Also i think he would recognize me if i was to follow him."

Alexa responds "Ok,then you go for the charter.but you will have to let some one in the room to check his gear.who will be the lucky one to check his gear?"

Tavarak looks at Kerr and smiles before answering "DING DONG AVON CALLING us careless?"  Tav chuckles at his own comment, not entirely sure why he found it so amusing. "Well not to worry i've been called far worse." Tav stands and offers his hand, "Well met, my name is Tavarak, please feel free to join us" Tav points to an empty chair "As long as there are no objections from my companions of course."

Alexa says "No problem.the more the merrier.Perhaps your skills qualify to follow the half-orc.If so then you and your friend better go follow him now before he gets too far.Maybe someone else should join them." "If no one wants to search the half-orcs gear then I will do it.Then the rest should join Tavarak to get the charter"

Tav: There might be just a bit of a problem there... All I could see of his gear in the room was a locked chest at the foot of the bed.

Aglora -- or was it Deglora? -- goes around lighting the lamps on the wall. Situated as it is against the northwestern wall, when it gets to late afternoon, the whole district is in shadow.

Avon looks at Tavarak and raises an eyebrow. As he sits at the table he seems uninterested in the conversation. That is, until the conversation continues about a locked chest. A big smile comes across his face as he leans in and softly answers Alexa. "Well you see, this is your lucky day. I just happen to be... specialized, in opening locked chests." Avon grins an evil smile. "You leave that chest to me, just give me all the details. Which room, where is the chest, what kind of lock, you know, anything that might help."

She smiles, and puts in a comment of her own as Avon finishes. "I make a good distraction, need be. I can go along with Avon, or to get this charter thingy."  She blinks her eyes and sits back, twisting a lock of her hair absently, then, she leans over to whisper to Sandros. "You gonna finish that apple?"

-------------

Meanwhile... across town:

With Poppy

Starmyst raises her eyebrows a bit as the man drones on about food and the half-elf's dog. Nevertheless, she smiles at him and follows Poppy as he drags her and the elf around the corner --several corners as it turns out-- to another Inn. She looks inside the interior and wonders what kind of place this is. "Are you sure it's safe inside for us?" She wasn't about to got mobbed on her first day in a large city. With Poppy seeming to be the type of person who was half drunk all the time, who know how nice the bartender -really- was?

Ahhh... not an Inn at all, she's relieved to see. The Mission of the Sea, serving, as it's sign says, "the widows, orphans and retired sailors of Squarento" ... a house of Korajel, God of the Oceans. Surely she'd be treated decently here. The smell of cooking meat and savory soup wafts thru the open door.

Poppy pauses near the door, looks at Quill. "Poppy doesn't know what to say about the doggy, miss. Nice doggy, nice doggy. Can't come inside, can he? No he can't. They make food in there, and offer prayers too. Yes, they do. Doggies don't pray! Can't come in!"

Starmyst, relieved to see that the place didn't look too beat up, turned and said, "Pay someone to hold him for a few minutes. Or bring him in and see if this guys friend the bartender is really as nice as he says he is." She smiled at her and did a slight curtsey. "My name is Starmyst. I'm a Druid from.." she waved her hand vaguely northwest, "up that way. And you?"

Starmyst, the elf, and Quill, the half elf, pause near the door. Edge, the wolf-dog, begins to salivate at the smells coming from the Mission kitchen. Inside, several men and women can be seen serving about a dozen grubby and downtrodden men at several long tables. All the servers are wearing robes of deep sea-green, and each has the symbol of Korajel at his/her throat--- a stylized wave, carved into a dark blue stone.

Poppy goes in and talks to one of the men, pointing to the door. The man comes to the door, and addresses the women.

Excuse me ladies," he begins after a brief nod of his head. "but Poppy there says that you are with him ? Please do not be embarrassed... all are welcome here." He eyes Starmyst's holy symbol of Najela. "You need not worship Korajel to be in need of His help.... Come in. There is no cost, although any donation is most welcome, if 'tis within your heart to give."

Inside, Poppy is waving them to enter, but is drifting off toward the serving line.  Starmyst breaths in deeply at the smells, and smiles at the man and nods. She had never been one to say much, and often didn't even feel like being near people. She wasn't moody, she just liked to think. She enters the building and decides to follow Poppy over to the serving line, glancing back once to make sure Quill is okay. She smiles at her and shrugs by lifting a single shoulder.

Quill leaves Edge at the door and promises to bring him food. She follows Poppy into the food line and looks at the plentiful bounty before her. There are a few loaves of wheat bread, fruit, and several varieties of seafood. Her father was never a big fish eater, she was used to more meat and potatoes in her diet, and what the forest gave her. But she takes a piece of fish and some bread, and places an apple in her pocket.

She then guides Poppy towards a private table because of the business about a missing prince. The three settle in at an empty table near the back, and amid bites of the good tasting grub, the women begin to prod Poppy about telling his tale.

Poppy eats rapidly, sopping up the gravy from the fish stew with gobs of bread. Finally he eases back against the wall and gives the pair a sharp look. "Poppy is not going to sell you the map," he begins. He quickly makes calming motions with his hands at the sudden annoyed looks from across the table. "Wait, wait. Poppy is not going to sell you his map 'cause it won't help you much. No it won't. And Poppy won't cheat nice ladies. No. --- Listen, now, are you two girls going to go out and REALLY try and rescue the dwarf? By yourselves?"

Well," says Starmyst, "I'd always figured on finding some partners. It'd be much too dangerous alone." Quill nods her head in agreement.

After a pause, Poppy nods his head. "Well, if you DO get 'im back, a couple of gold pieces out of that reward would go a long way to helping the Mission. It's really Poppy's home, do ya see. And there's never really enough to go around." He eyes the Druid's holy symbol. "I know there's other good causes too... but if ya be findin' him usin' what Poppy knows ... well, I'm askin' that a tiny bit of that reward finds its way here.... Is it a deal?"

Again the women nod their heads... but not quite as quickly as before. Starmyst listens, nodding when he asked for a small reward in return. "Your information is invaluable."

"All right then," he goes on, "Here's the map. I've ...err... well.. I've sold several of 'em already. And 'tis absolutely true." He pushes a hand drawn map over the table top. Roughly it shows the city, with a dotted line from The Golden Pony to the eastern-most wharf in the port section. There is a big X at that point. "I seen 'em take 'im. They was 'bout 6 big orcs and a captain. They klonked him over the 'ead and bundled 'im up in a rug. Stuffed 'im in a trunk and carried down to Orc's Dock." His dirty finger points to the X on the map. "Then they put 'im on a row boat. That's what I told wif every map I sold."

Quill interrupts: "Were the orcs wearing uniforms? Did you overhear anything that might help us? How did you know he was the captain? What did he look like (any distinguishing marks, size, etc.?)"

Poppy answers, "Well.. the cap'n's always the one in charge, innt'he? One of 'em was givin' the orders. Plus he was a fair sight bigger, that's always the way with orcs, ya know? The big'uns are in charge.... Look like? Ugly as sin. The cap'n was almost 7 ft tall.. the others, normal size, like -- 6ft tall ish. They's carryin' clubs. No partic'lar uniforms... just odd bits of this or that. They did smell mighty clean for orcs, tho. One thing I give 'em credit fer: them boys could ROW!"

"But none of t'others who bought them maps listened to ol' Poppy serious like, as you ladies are. And none of 'em EVER asked Poppy to a fancy lunch at the Golden Pony. " He smiles at Quill. "I might o' tooken ya up on it, too, if I'd'a had me best duds. But that's no never mind." He pauses to take a large gulp of his ale. Then he leans forward and drops his voice to a barely audible whisper. "Now, then... do ye wants to know where he is now?"

Relishing his role as font of knowledge to two young, eager, and very attractive women, Poppy is playing it for all it's worth. "Well.." the pause stretches out. The women barely breathing as they lean toward the grimy old Poppy. "So do I !" He pounds on the table and laughs. Quill and Starmyst exchange a disgusted glance at being taken in. They start to get up.

"No no no.. wait! Poppy's just 'avin' a bit of fun, he is. Poppy don't know for sure, but Poppy's been sailin' around this bay for 'is whole life. He 'as." Starmyst notices that Poppy's funny little accent comes and goes. He continues: "That li'l dingy couldn't go nowheres, 'cept to a bigger ship. So, Poppy sat down and watched. Yes he did. And so, out they rows. Sure enough, they ties up to the Wave Skipper. Now if there's ever a more misnamed pile of wood held together by pure dumb luck, I've never seen it. They never took an honest cargo that Poppy heard of. But they's honest theives, if ya catch my meaning. Once ya buys 'em they stays bought."

He notes with disapproval that his mug has gone dry. Quickly, so as not to break the mood, Quill pushes hers over to him. A long swallow later, he goes on. "Up goes the trunk. Up goes the nasties. Up goes the dark priest. Did I mention him? He met 'em all at the docks. Sittin' in the dingy 'e was. And off they sails. Nice as you please. Driftin' out a bit with the outgoin' tides."

Quill again: ""If you know he was a dark priest, did you see his holy symbol?"

Poppy: "No I didn't see no mark of any of the dark gods. I just heard the cap'n cursin' when they got close to the dock: 'Where's that damn priest,' says he."

"So there ye have it." He sits back, exhausted by the full telling of his tale. "There's only the two places he could be. Right?!"

The silence following this final statement stretches for over a minute. Finally Starmyst says: "uh... I guess so, if you say so, Poppy.... what 2 would those be?"

Quill was silent the whole time. "Wait just a minute, I'll be right back." She picks up the wooden bowl with the remainder of her stew and takes it out for Edge. She hurries back to the table. "OK... what 2, Poppy?"

Poppy looks surprised, "Well, 'e could be dead, o'course. That's the first place. But why go thru all that if ya's just gonna kill'im. And if 'e ain't dead -- or on some dark priest ship, which is the same thing, I'm thinkin' -- why then he'd hafta be takin' 'is vacation at the caves at the Point."

The elf and half-elf exchange a look. They do their best to be bland and not show their confusion.

Now, Poppy," interrupts Quill. "They could've gone just about anywhere... why do you say just the caves at the Point." Starmyst, talking almost at the same time as Quill: "Which Point?"

Poppy turns to Quill with a weary air. "Don't know too much o' the bay, eh? Well, miss...it's like this. There's no fresh water anywhere in the bay.... unless ye've a mind to scale the cliffs. Ye probably noticed that the city is the only place around that ain't blocked off from the sea by them cliffs. 100 ft and more, they is. But there's a couple o' places where there's caves, and small beaches and such. That ol' bucket of sh--- er... flotsam, by which I'm meanin' the Wave Skipper, couldn't be goin' out ta deep water. And there's only one set o' caves that's dry, 'round the clock. And that's bein' the caves at the Point...Devli's Point. The entrance is flooded 'cept at low tide, and fer the life o' me, I'm not seein' how ANY number of folk could get in there if 'twas defended. But I'd bet me wooden leg that were 'e is."

Starmyst did a quick run thru of her memory. Poppy didn't have a wooden leg.

Quill looks interested, "What else can you tell us about the caves? Legends, rumors, etc.?"

Poppy: "They's a favorite of smugglers and pirates for storing loot. Cant get in there 'cept an hour or from dead low tide. And bringin' a boat in ANYtime is damn dangerous. Lots o' rocks in the waters. Ya know? They never coulda got the Wave Skimmer in there.. musta had a smaller boat."

Then he adds, as an after thought, "'Course, they coulda just met up wif a bigger ship and sent 'im round ta somewhere's else. Mebbe they picked up fresh water and skipped around the cape. If they's lucky they mighta made it ta the Isle. Or the pirates got 'em all. In which unlikely eventitude, they're gonna be spending the reward money on ransom. So I dont count that atall, since there's nothin' for the Mission ta share. See?"

Poppy gets up and strolls over to grab a piece of rhubarb pie from the desert tray, and another ale. When he returns, he turns to them with an "I-told-you-so" look and says, "So, after ye gets back wif the little Princie, don't be fergettin' the needs o' the Mission 'ere."

Although Poppy was sometimes a bit odd - his accent, missing wooden leg - he seemed overall to be a nice guy. 'A king in a beggars outfit,' she thought with a smile to herself.

The pair of adventurers look around, trying to take in all they just heard. Outside the window, shadows are growing long.

Looking out the window Starmyst yawned and stretched, the sight of the long shadows already making her feel tired. Turning to Quill, she asked, "Where to now? Perhaps we should find a few more people to travel with, as Orcs were never a favorite of mine.." She trails off slightly then, her far past being a jumble of confusing and horrifying memories.

Quill smiles at Poppy, "By all means your kindness and goodwill will not go unrewarded, Poppy. Thank you for your help." She offers her hand to the old sailor and brushes the crumbs off her leathers. "Well, partner," she adresses Starmyst, "should we find some more partners to help us on this quest into the caves?" As she and Starmyst head towards the door she scans the mission to see if anyone seems interested in her and her new partner.

. When she reaches the door she bends down and unties Edge from the bench in front of the mission and scratches him behind his ears. "Good stew, boy?" she asks. She then takes the empty bowl and hands it to one of the missionaries near the front door. As she leaves she reminds Poppy, "I still owe you a meal at the Golden Pony."