Turn 157
    I hope everyone is having a lovely early January. I have a cold, so please forgive any incoherence this week.

    * * *
    Leaping backwards in time:
    "First the business part. If the crew's wage is equal shares of your ventures, then I won't have to barter for a fair share."
    Val looks relieved that Barrend does not wish to haggle. He's not sure how he'd fare in a contest with a dwarf...
    "Second thing, the crew... Just how drunk was Three Trees when they contracted you? They all look like they were strangers from all farthest spheres known that just happened to be at the same place at the same time. And a word of caution, your shipmate /brother/ Pham", he says with a sarcastic tone to it, "shouldn't wander around town so openly with those hextorian symbols. Impersonating a priest is already insulting enough to any religion, but the hextorians are not the forgiving kind. Even if there are less of them in town recently."
    The conversation stops as the griffon cub squawks loudly as Emmett briefly tends to it.
    "And there's that thing!." Barrend angrily points at the cub. "What is that beast doing aboard a ship? It's not even in a bloody cage. Don't you know how dangerous it can be? Even those maddest of wizards would take the eggs rather Just what kind of racket are you doing here with 3 Trees?!"
    He stares gravely at Val. "I have half a mind thinking you're nothing more than mere corsairs, pirates under contract. But... that doesn't sound like any 3 Trees business I ever heard of. They never were keen to poachers. So I suppose you have some explanations"
    Val watches the dwarf from behind a facade of collected calm. "We are hardly pirates or corsairs, and I believe Three Trees was quite sober when they contracted us." There is the faint edge of disdain in his voice. "We are commissioned to explore and open new trade routes, a fact you can research with the company if you doubt me. The rest... is incidental."
    Before Barrend can say anything, the captain continues in an even, controlled tone, "Emmett is a Griffon Rider and quite capable in handling Cadin, the 'beast.' It was a gift to him, and I am inclined to let him keep it. Besides, the griffon's potential outweighs any minor annoyances."
    "A griffon rider... on a jammer that spends most of it's time in wildspace?! That creature's potential is still years away. In the meantime, you have a hungry mouth to feed that's taking up room." Barrend sighs. He knows that /he/ is the newcomer after all and that not only has he no word on the matter, the captain already approved of it. He looks in the direction of the cub. "Horses don't like me and they don't like griffons. So it can't be all that bad. It just might be a pearl in an oyster." Val realizes that dwarf probably swallowed a lot of pride to let it slide so easily.
    As for the rest of my crew, they were each selected for their talents and abilities. And I am quite aware of Brother Pham's belief's; he is no impostor. If you have any doubts as to the sincerity of his beliefs or his clerical abilities, I suggest you come with us tonight.
    "Of course, if you are not interested..."
    "I apologize, I meant no offense with the pirate bit. But you must admit that you are a most unorthodox crew." Barrend looks at Val with strange suspicion. "Why, what's so special about tonight?"
    Val gives him a chilling smile, "Just be here and meet with the crew. You can form your own opinions then..."
    [GM: Which does indeed segue very well into Planning Bloody Mayhem. Thank you both for tying up the loose end. :-) And now, back to our story already in progress.]

    * * *
    Downstairs:
    Their remaining quarter hour is all but gone by the time the two locate a pair of gold keys in the false bottom of a hidden compartment of a chair upholstered in black-embroidered black silk. In the meantime, the goblin argument seems to die down into relative silence. No one approaches the room in which they are so quietly busy
    "Time grows short," Val whispers lightly to ibn Hassan, breathing an inaudible sigh of relief that nobody has entered the room. "Let's get that open and go!" There doesn't seem to be anything else useful in the room; some nice decorative pieces, but nothing that would be of any help in the immediate situation.
    Ibn Hassan takes the keys and meticulously closes up the hidden compartment, then looks around to make sure everything is as they found it. "Here we go, then," he murmurs.
    Back down in the records room, he studies the keys and boxes, trying to determine which key goes with which box. It wouldn't do to use the wrong one. Decision made, he chooses the right-hand box, examines the lock once more, and carefully unlocks it with what he believes is the right key.
    The first chest contains a half dozen bound ledgers, protectively wrapped against damp. The second contains a stack of leather folders, some thin, some fat with material. On a rapid inspection, much of it appears to be in code.
    Val almost lapses into silent hand-speech, stopping short when he remembers their invisibility.
    "Take everything, or just samples?" he manages to whisper to ibn Hassan. The coded text seems to intrigue him.
    "Everything," the half-elf replies absently, looking into one of the ledgers; it appears to be a list of amounts, dates, and names. "Best check the bedroom again, see if the code-key is there ..." He puts the ledgers on the floor and examines the interior of the box. There are no hidden compartments, and nothing that looks like it might provide a code key in the other room.
    "I brought some bags," he says, fishing a couple of folded bags out of the one slung over his shoulder. He gives one to Val, and packs the ledgers into the other. Then he closes and re-locks the chest, takes a very small broom out of his equipment bag, and sweeps the part of the floor they've walked on. When he's done, the dust will eventually settle over the area again and leave no trace of their visit (at least in theory).
    The material is bulky but not overly heavy, and the two cross back around the gaping hole in the tunnel floor without undue difficulty. [Climb rolls succeed.]

    * * *
    Upstairs:
    "I believe that door will lead into the tower," he points. The temple proper is a long, narrow, and high-ceilinged room, with high windows on both long walls. Their line is interrupted near the end farthest from the altar by the intruding curved wall of the tower, from which other windows look down into the chamber. There are no lights, nor any sign of movement.
    "OK, lets go check it out." Emmett moves over to the door with a surprising speed and yanks it open, ready to pummel anyone listening behind it.
    There is no one lurking behind the door. The dim light that filters past him from the temple reveals a low round room, devoid of anything except for unlit candles in holders on the walls. To the left, a stairway goes upward, following the curve of the tower. To the right is another door, and a stair leading down.
    Following closely behind Lynden is counting his blessings that they'd not met more serious resistance; at least not yet... "Shall we?" he gestures at the closed door, inviting Emmett to confirm the choice.
    It leads out to the rear of the temple; there is a square of garden--Pham and Barrend both recognize many of the plants growing there, and shudder--and a pair of wrought-iron gates letting onto the alley. Nothing moves but leaves in the wind.
    The tower itself proves a major anticlimax; it is deserted. The rooms there look like they were once used as living quarters for a half dozen people. The lowest room still shows signs of occupancy, presumably by the young man tied up downstairs and one other, of whom there is no trace. The upper stories have not been touched in weeks. * * *
    

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