"Can you make the arrangements?" an impatient Wulfgar asked again. He wanted Morik to charter a ship fast enough and with a captain knowledgeable enough to catch Sheela Kree, to shadow her into another harbor perhaps, or merely to get close enough so that Wulfgar could take a small boat in the dark of night and quietly board the privateer. He didn't expect any help in retrieving the warhammer once delivered to Kree. He didn't think he'd need any.
"What of your captain friend?" Morik replied.
Wulfgar looked at him incredulously.
"Deudermont's Sea Sprite is the most reputable pirate chaser on the Sword Coast," Morik stated bluntly. "If there is a boat in Luskan that can catch Sheela Kree, it's Sea Sprite, and from the way Captain Deudermont greeted you, I'll wager he would take on the task."
Wulfgar had no direct answer to Morik's claims other than to say, "Arrange for a different boat."
Morik eyed him for a long while, then nodded. "I will try," he promised.
"Now," Wulfgar instructed. "Before the Leaping Lady gets too far out."
"We have a job," Morik reminded him. Running a bit low on funds, the pair had agreed to help an innkeeper unload a ship's hold of slaughtered cattle that night.
"I'll unload the meat," Wulfgar offered, and those words sounded like music to Morik, who never really liked honest work. The little thief had no idea where to begin chartering a boat that could catch Sheela Kree, but he much preferred searching for that answer, and perhaps finding a few pockets to pick along the way, to getting soggy and smelly under tons of salted meat.
*****
Robillard stared into the crystal ball, watching Deudermont as the captain made his way along one wide and well-lit boulevard, heavily patrolled by city guards. Most of them stopped to greet the captain and offer praise. Robillard understood their intent though he couldn't hear their words through the crystal ball, which granted images only and no sound.
A knock on the door broke the wizard's concentration and sent the image in his crystal ball into a swirl of foggy grayness. He could have retrieved the scene immediately but figured that Deudermont was in no danger at that time, especially with the multitude of defensive spells the wizard had cast over the man. Still, always preferring his privacy, he called out a gruff, "Be gone!" then moved to pour himself a strong drink.
Another knock sounded, this one more insistent. "Ye must see this, Master Robillard," came a call, a voice Robillard recognized. With a grunt of protest and drink in hand, Robillard opened the door to find a crewman standing there, glancing back over his shoulder to the rail by the boarding plank.
Waillan Micanty and another seaman stood there, looking down at the docks, apparently speaking to someone.
"We've a guest," the crewman at Robillard's door remarked, and the wizard immediately thought it must be Wulfgar. Not sure if that was a good thing or bad, Robillard started across the deck, pausing only to turn back and shut his door in the face of the overly curious crewman.
"You're not to come up until Master Robillard says so," Micanty called down, and there came a plea for quiet from below in response.
Robillard moved to Micanty's side. The wizard looked down to see a pitiful figure huddled under a blanket, a tell-tale sign, for the night surely wasn't cold.
"Wants to speak to Captain Deudermont," Waillan Micanty explained.
"Indeed," Robillard replied. To the man on the wharf he said, "Are we to let every vagabond who wanders in come aboard to speak with Captain Deudermont?"
"Ye don't understand," the man below answered, lowering his voice and glancing nervously about as if expecting a murderer to descend upon him at any moment. "I got news ye're needin' to hear. But not here," he went on, glancing about yet again. "Not where any can hear."
"Let him up," Robillard instructed Micanty. When the crewman looked at him skeptically, the wizard returned the stare with an expression that reminded Micanty of who he was. It also demonstrated that Robillard thought it absurd to worry that this pitiful little man might cause mischief in the face of Robillard's wizardly power.
"I will see him in my quarters," the wizard instructed as he walked away.
A few moments later, Waillan Micanty led the shivering little man through Robillard's cabin door. Several other curious crewmen poked their heads into the room, but Micanty, without waiting for Robillard's permission, moved over and closed them out.
"Ye're Deudermont?" the little man asked.
"I am not," the wizard admitted, "but rest assured that I am the closest you will ever get to him."
"Got to see Deudermont," the little man explained.
"What is your name?" the wizard asked.
The little man shook his head. "Just got to tell Deudermont," he said. "But it don't come from me, if ye understand."
Never a patient man, Robillard certainly did not understand. He flicked his finger and sent a bolt of energy into the little man that jolted him backward. "Your name?" he asked again, and when the man hesitated, he hit him with another jolt. "There are many more waiting, I assure you," Robillard said.
The little man turned for the door but got hit in the face with a tremendous magical gust of wind that nearly knocked him over and sent him spinning to again face the wizard.
"Your name?" Robillard asked calmly.
"Josi Puddles," Josi blurted before he could think to create an alias.
Robillard pondered the name for a moment, putting his finger to his chin. He leaned back in his chair and struck a pensive pose. "Do tell me your news, Mister Puddles."
"For Captain Deudermont," an obviously overwhelmed Josi replied. "They're looking to kill 'im. Lots o' money for his head."
"Who?"
"A big man," Josi replied. "Big man named Wulfgar and his friend Morik the Rogue."
Robillard did well to hide his surprise. "And how do you know this?" he asked.
"All on the street know," Josi answered. "Lookin' to kill Deudermont for ten thousand pieces o' gold, so they're sayin'."
"What else?" Robillard demanded, his voice taking on a threatening edge.
Josi shrugged, little eyes darting.
"Why have you come?" Robillard pressed.
"I was thinkin' ye should know," Josi answered. "I know I'd want to be knowin' if people o' Wulfgar's and Morik's reputation was hunting me."
Robillard nodded, then chuckled. "You came to a ship-a pirate hunter-infamous among the most dangerous folk along the docks, to warn a man you have never met, knowing full well that to do so could put you in mortal danger. Your pardon, Mister Puddles, but I sense an inconsistency here."
"I thinked ye should know," Josi said again, lowering his eyes. "That's all."
"I think not," Robillard said calmly. Josi looked back at him, his expression fearful. "How much do you desire?"
Josi's expression turned curious.
"A wiser man would have bargained before offering the information," Robillard explained, "but we are not ungrateful. Will fifty gold pieces suffice?"
"W-well, yes," Josi stuttered, then he said, "Well, no. Not really, I mean. I was thinkin' a hunnerd."
"You are a powerful bargainer, Mister Puddles," Robillard said, and he nodded at Micanty to calm the increasingly agitated sailor. "Your information may well prove valuable, if you aren't lying, of course."
"No, sir, never that!"
"Then a hundred gold it is," Robillard said. "Return tomorrow to speak with Captain Deudermont, and you shall be paid."
Josi glanced all around. "I'm not comin' back, if ye please, Master Robillard," he said.
Robillard chuckled again. "Of course," he replied as he reached into a neck purse. He produced a key and tossed it to Waillan Micanty.