Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

The ship was late... quite late... frustratingly late. Three days overdue....
Where is that blasted boat!! I'll skin him alive myself!
Claret paced up and down the docks for the better part of the morning, seething in her mind. Outwardly showing little to no emotion beyond an agitated and quicked pace.
She stopped once more and peered out into the Harbor of Baldur's Gate scanning for any sign of her chartered vessel.
It was an average morning in the Harbor, fisherman were returning with their morning catch. Evident by the swarms of gulls circling above like lusting vultures over carrion.
Merchant vessels were in various states of unloading, loading and resupplying.
She had time this morning to chat with a few ship masters, some she had worked with before. Other's she'd sailed with. Others she'd had entertaining evenings with.
A good name is important in the merchant trade, your word also has weight if it can be trusted. But gold and wine will get you further than both combined.

She'd heard the rumours of recent Sahuagin attacks on local vessels. Resigning herself to the fact that this was the likely fate of her cargo she stormed off to one of the dock supervisors handling the warehousing and logistics of inbound goods.

As she approached she offered the customary greeting, the supervisor looked up, a stack of manifest papers in his arm, surrounded by a pile of boxes, with many runners coming and going moving the stock around, a veritable hive of activity. Raising one finger to her, nodding once, then he looked towards a quarreling pair of men.
"FRANK! I said... The crate of apples was for the Helm and Cloak... NOT... the Elfsong. GO!"
Returning his gaze to her once again. "My apologies Claret... good to see you again. How can I help?"
Folding her arms across her chest and setting her feet firmly "I was expecting delivery on a vessel that was to arrive three days ago."
Without skipping a beat and clearly unphased he asked, "Name of the vessel and where was it coming from?"
"The Laden Maiden, out of Myratma"
"Tethyrian eh? Mmm.. No I haven't seen her."
"I know... I've been here everyday..." she squinted her eyes, shifting the weight between her feet, clearly unimpressed.
"I'm sorry Ma'm... but maybe it's been raided. There's a hive of Sahuagin attacks lately in the region".
"And where would I find out more detail and possibly the fate of my cargo."
"Ulgoth's Beard... try the Bearded Mermaid, the dive attracts all sorts. Tymora be with you in your search."

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Turn's out... the Bearded Mermaid was quite a hive of activity in the evening.
After six rounds of verbal sparring with the door bouncer, which ended after her patience ran out, and gave him the measly five coppers she whittled him down to, she proceeded into the taproom proper.

Gazing around she quickly appraised the scene.
Couple small time merchants.
Leather poacher
Pair of sultry barmaids
Few farmers gambling at a table.
AHA! Shipmates drinking at the hearth!.
She loosened the top few strands on her blouse, tousled her hair up some. Stopping a bar maid walking past with a tray of Ale, dropped a few silver onto the tray and grabbed the three mugs and walked up to the sailors and rudely interupted them.

"Well helloooo boys. Can a girl come and drink with you tonight?"
Their glassy eyed gaze lingering lustfully towards her, with lopsided inebriated grins they both beckoned her over, relieved her of the pair of ale mugs and engaged in raucous friendly banter.
It wasn't long before she had learnt what she needed from them and excused herself to the privvy. They barely noticed as they had returned to a topic of boasting about some local fight that happened a tenday past.
So... the Sahuagin strike regularly... and from a nearby island...
Peering out the stained glass window, she could see the light of Selune filtering through a nearby tree.
It's late... I'll rent a room and seek passage in the morning.

Morning begins early in a fishing village.
She woke just as the first rays of Lathandar breached the horizon, and stirred the local flocks of gulls to sing their morning Cawwl.
She set about dressing and smiled proudly as she patted a small leather satchel as it clinked satisfactorily. It was much fuller than when she first walked into the tavern.
People really should learn to secure their rooms more thoroughly.
She walked to the shutters and pulled them open, to be met with a light salty breeze wafting up from the dock. Dragging an old oaken chair to the window, she sat down to pull on her boots as she appraised the scene.
Few boats rigging up for fishing.
Couple on the docks fishing.
Lighthouse keeper puking outside.
Farmer leading cows in for milking.
Light wind.
Little swell.
It should be a good day to head across.

After sorting her things out she went downstairs to the taproom. The aroma of warm fresh bread welcomed her as she sat down to a table for breakfast. A young girl brought her a plate of fresh bread, goat cheese, dried fruits and a steaming pot of tea. Before letting the serving girl run off, Claret collared her and asked her to fetch the Innkeep.
Shortly a tall human man with a ponytail came out to meet her.
"Whaddaya want? The boss is busy."
Squinting in disdain.. "Fine. Fetch me your wine list."
His eyebrows rose in disbelief and examined her carefully for confirmation.
Her face showed no sign of humour.... but impatience was beginning to make an appearance.
He eventually turned heel and retrieved a leaflet from the bar and practically shoved it at her.
Snatching the leaflet from him, and slapping his hand away, waving him off in a rude manner.
"Shoo shoo. Run along now."
Snorting derisively he lumbered away, grumbling some gutteral curses of no significance.
She sat there eating her breakfast in peace, whilst examining the list of alcohol thoroughly, taking note of stock, vinyard origin, year, pricing.
Having finished her meal, she tucked the leaflet into a pocket on her leathers, left a couple silver coins on the table and headed outside.



It was a short walk to the dock from the Inn. The thick warm salty air grew stronger as she approached along with the unmistakable smell of fish which will surely outlast religion. The dock was fairly busy today, half score of fishing boats were in various stages of preparation for launch. Many young boys and girls whom were either too young, or managed to wrangle their way out of work on the boats, were playing on the jetty. Casting small handlines into the water, pulling up small baitfish, while others were having fun further along jumping into the water, or pushing others in.

She eventually met the ferryman Nelvin. This man had a wild eyed gleaming stare with an unkempt appearance. The aroma wafting around him would charitably be classed as merely unpleasant.
After quickly haggling the price, they agreed and set out shortly thereafter across the ocean to the nearby island.

The skip across to the island went smoothly without trouble. All the while Nelvin seemed distracted and nervous. Claret picked up on his anxiety and put it down to the possibility of a Sahuagin encounter. Gripping the hilts of her knives sheathed on her belt, she set her jaw taut and continually scanned the horizon, primarily focusing on the ever growing shape that was the island destination.

On the approach nearing shore, they dropped anchor and cast off a small rowing boat. On the way in, the skin on the back of her neck prickled, and she got the unnerving feeling that they were being watched. She cast her gaze quickly around, scanning the landing area then looked back over her shoulder.
"Now , I've paid you well enough... you'll wait here on the beach for me to return."
"As Valkur is my witness, I will wait for your return."
She stared at him for a few moments, unsure whether he will be good to his word or not, and she sighed heavily, returning to scan the nearing beach.
"So what is it yer 'oping to find 'ere anyway?"
"Lost property" Claret offered in a curt response.
"And... this err... property... would yer be expecting to cart it back on this 'ere rowboat?"
"I'm hoping... that enough of it remains that it won't all fit... " she clenched her jaw, seemingly agitated "... although it's likely I'd be lucky to salvage enough to fill my bag."
Simply nodding to her, and puffing quite heavily, he continued rowing them to shore.

-----

They grounded the boat on the beach, and dragged it into the shallows. Not too far that they couldn't make a quick getaway if need be.
"I'll be back in a couple hours. Wait here."
Waving her off "I ain't goin' no where till yer get back."

It didn't take long before she found some trails worn into the ground leading away from the beach. She walked North along a narrow path, the plants worn down with regular footfalls. She stopped at the mouth of a gap between two rock outcrops where the path wound between. The granite walls climbed much higher than her and were worn smooth from countless years of wind and rain beating down here. Once again the skin on the back of her neck prickled setting her nervous senses alert. Drawing a knife from her belt into her right hand, she pushed through a large growth of broad leaf plant, hacking her way through somewhat. Some time further up the path she heard a commotion ahead. Sneaking along the path, and using the heavy foliage for cover, she peeled a leaf back slowly and peered into the clearing ahead.

A pair of Sahuagin were arguing with one another, blades drawn, both taking swipes at each other, around a crate on the sand. Behind them up and down the beach were scattered bottles and broken crates. Her eyes lit up.
My wine!!!
Drawing her other blade, she appraised the scene developing her plan.
Two targets
Large, nimble, likely toughened skin.
Distracted by one another
No others nearby.
Light offshore wind, they wont smell me.
No gulls around to give me away.
Line of foliage to within four feet.
Perfect...

So she wound her way stealthily amongst the foliage using it for cover and got behind one of the Sahuagin. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling long and slow she counted her moment to strike.
Like a panther on prey, she leaped from her cover at the back of her nearest prey. Sinking a blade into his spine severing its spinal cord, it's legs immediately went limp underneath him, with the rest of it's body collapsing in a flailing heap on the ground. The hiss and moan of the disabled creature collapsing was cut short by her other blade slashing its throat, leaving it in a pool of its own blood, convulsing in its death throes on the ground.

The other creature stood shocked for mere moments, dumbfounded by the appearance of this small humanoid bringing swift death before its eyes. The diving tumble of Claret's attack on it was enough to rouse it out of its stupor and swerved aside in time to only gain a mild laceration on its thigh as her blades sailed past. The creature had a significant height and reach advantage over Claret to which it knew well and used to its advantage, continually shifting about keeping her and those tiny blades of death at swords length. Wielding only a rusty long blade, it slashing wildly at the air in front of her, trying to throw her off the prowl. Any time Claret would press the attack, it would slash at her and step back. Soon Claret realised the futility of the situation as a meagre stalemate. Wanting to cut the battle short, she lunged again, drawing the evident slashing response from her opponent. She dropped to her right knee, rolled sideways, and came up with a fist full of sand and flicked it up at the creature's face.

Blinded by her dirty trick the creature flailed the air in front of it wildly, as Claret easily avoided the aimless slashing. Rolling again to come around behind the creature, she stuck her blade deep into its spine, severing it's cord, and let the body crumple in front of her as well. Swiftly she moved in behind the creature, took its jaw in one hand, yanked it upward such that its piscalaen eyes pleaded for mercy searching Claret's face in its final moments. There was none to be found. Slashing the creatures throat, she pushed it away and stepped away from it as its final breath bubbled and frothed with its own blood.



Retrieving her other knife, she walked to the waterline and rinsed them and wiped them dry on her tunic. Peering about again, checking to see if the commotion had drawn any nearby attention, she was satisfied as no others could be found. Walking up to the remains of a crate nearby, she flicked what remained of the lid off to find that most of the contents were broken bottles. She spent the next half candlemark walking along the beach, checking broken crates and their remaining contents. She managed to salvage three bottles of her special cargo. Tethyrian Tanagluth. A local delicacy and a favourite amongst the nobility back home. She was set to make a tidy profit importing this into the City. She managed to find a smaller carryable crate that contained spoiled foodstuffs to which she emptied and replaced it with her salvaged wine. Satisfied that they'd survive the journey back in her care she made her way back to the waiting Nelvin and the rowboat.

Nelvin did not have much to say at the sight of the battle weary, blood stained halfling approaching him carrying a wooden box. The look in her eye basically told him "Don't mess with me, I'm not in the mood". They rowed back to the boat without a word spoken and sailed back to Ulgoth's beard.