23rd Day of Sarailah:
So we headed South around the bog and arrived at Eastport at around 7pm. While Coarvyne and Fenella patrolled around the forest at the edge of town looking for signs of Coarvyn’s brother Erland and I headed into town. I headed over to the Wizard Collage while Erland found a merchant to sell the armor and swords we gained from the Githyanki.
I won’t go into any of the details of what it is like to have your brain poked and prodded by magical doodads, nor honestly do I remember any of the details of what they did to me, so I will just leave that part out of my telling. Whatever it was seemed to have worked as I am still here before you a new Wizard!
I left the next morning, exhausted but otherwise functional, and decided to do a bit of business in the city myself before catching up with the others at the inn by the docks. It was then that they caught me up on what had happened the night before.
Coarvyn and Fenella searched the forest along the edge of town finding no sign of Farland, Coarvyn’s missing brother. Their search took them to the Northern road towards the graveyard. It was well after midnight when they decided to turn back towards town where they meet up with Erland who had headed North looking for them.
After Erland had finished his business with the merchants he started asking around about the ship that Coarvyn’s brother was expected to arrive on, and the halfling that arrived with it. Apparently Farland had gotten into a bit of trouble with some slavers and was ran out of town. The slavers returned to their ship empty handed.
24th Day of Sarailah:
The next morning after we met back up we went to the docks to speak with the crew of the slaver’s ship, The Troll’s Bondage. To avoid any trouble Erland spoke to a guard that he had some prior dealings with, Agent Kreeg, who then referred us to Yeomen Davis who joined us as we went to question the slavers.
They seemed reluctant to speak of the incident with the halfling, but after I sent the slaver a telepathic message saying, “I know how you sailors love your rum but all it will take is one whisper from me and I will have your entire cargo tasting like rat piss for your entire voyage if you don’t co-operate and give us the information we need.”
I gave the slaver sailor a hard gnomish stare. Of course the others heard nothing of this silent exchange and I will continue to let them think it was Yoemen Davis that intimidated the man into confessing and taking no credit for my humble self.
Naturally the slaver caved under the pressure of these cold and hardened gnomish eyes and admitted to having run Farland out of town but that he had slipped away from them and was still alive and at large when they returned to their ship.
Coarvyne and Erland mounted their feline companions, and Fenella shifted into the form of a giant white fluffy mastiff and gave me a ride on her back as we headed North.
It was about 1pm when we picked back up on Farland’s trail and followed the road passed the fork until we came along a shipwreck just off the shore. Erland drew to a halt, and as we came up next to him we could spot a pair of creatures just at the edge of the shipwreck digging in a cavity under the boat.
“Don’t look at them!” came a cry from somewhere in the shipwreck. The creatures were Basilisks! Huge hulking lizard-like things with eight legs that could turn a gnome to stone just as easily as looking at him. Luckily their attention was on their digging and not at us so we managed to avert our gaze before we became statues. Fortunately we managed to dispatch the scaly beasties without too much problem.