As soon as the ship was tied up, Narsk emerged from his cabin, dressed in a heavy, hooded cloak that shadowed his bestial features. A small number of the so-called savage races could be found in any large city in Faerun, but most of those would be goblins or orcs-a gnoll couldn’t help but attract attention. He picked out several deckhands of Skamang’s fist as the men were securing the ship and growled, “You three, arm yourselves and come with me. I have business ashore. Sorsil, let no one else leave the ship before I return. I will not be long.”
“Aye, Captain,” the mate replied. She took up a post by the gangplank as Narsk and his guards swept down the ramp and headed off into the town.
Geran watched the gnoll disappear into the narrow streets as Hamil and Sarth worked to secure the ship’s oars. “I think this is my opportunity,” he said to his companions. “If I’m ever going to get a look inside Narsk’s cabin, now is the time.”
“Agreed,” Hamil said. “The plan we talked about?”
Geran nodded. “We’d better move fast. I don’t think Narsk will be away from the ship for long.”
Hamil climbed up to the quarterdeck and began to occupy himself by coiling lines there. His real job was to serve as the lookout and warn Geran if anyone was coming. Geran and Sarth headed below to the midships crew quarters and from there worked their way aft to the storeroom directly beneath Narsk’s cabin. Sarth closed the door behind them and set his back to it. He was also a lookout. Geran needed the storeroom to stay empty, and it was Sarth’s job to make sure that no other crewmember wandered in at some inopportune time. “You understand that we may have to fight our way off the ship if this goes poorly?” the tiefling asked.
“I know it,” Geran answered. Still, this was the first chance he’d seen in days to find out what was in the letter pouch that Sergen had handed to Narsk. He only hoped that the gnoll hadn’t taken it with him when he went ashore.
Before he could begin to second-guess the plan, he focused his mind into the still, silent readiness he’d learned under the leaves of Myth Drannor. He brought to the forefront of his thoughts the mystic words of the teleportation spell, sensing the power locked within the arcane syllables. He drew Hamil’s poniard with his right hand and held it at the ready, just in case he was about to find himself in the middle of a fight. Then the swordmage hurled the force of his will into the arcane syllables fixed in his mind as he spoke a single word in Elvish: “Seiroch!”
There was a dizzying instant of darkness, a sense of bitter cold, and Geran found himself standing in the cabin directly above the place where he’d been standing in the storeroom. He turned quickly, dagger held before him, but there was no one else in the room. Narsk’s cabin was empty for the moment. With a small sigh of relief, he sheathed the poniard and studied his surroundings more carefully.
The cabin was dark and cluttered, and a heavy animal smell lingered in the air. Geran wrinkled his nose in distaste; Narsk was none too tidy in his living arrangements. He realized that he’d need a little light to see by, so he took a copper coin out of his pocket and quietly murmured the words of a light spell. The coin began to glow with a bright, warm light; Geran quickly wrapped it in a bit of scrap cloth to mute its brightness as much as he could. He didn’t want it shining from the row of windows across the stern end of the cabin. By the dim light, he studied his surroundings. Discarded clothing lay strewn where Narsk had dropped it, plates with the half-eaten remains of old suppers, and an assortment of odd baubles-gold goblets, pearl-handled cutlery, small idols, and other such things likely gleaned from the pillage of a dozen ships-lay scattered about, along with what seemed to be half an armory’s worth of weapons.
“Now where did Narsk put that pouch?” Geran asked softly. He moved over to the small desk in the cabin and searched through the old charts and cargo manifests strewn there. Just like the baubles of gold and gems that were lying around the cabin, they’d probably been seized from Moonshark’s prizes too. Finding nothing there, Geran rifled through the desk drawers. Then he moved to the bookshelves-hard to believe that Narsk was literate; he’d never heard of a gnoll who could read-but found nothing there. With a sinking feeling, he realized he’d have to seriously search the cabin.
It took him a quarter hour, but he finally found the leather pouch underneath Narsk’s mattress. Hoping that the master of the ship was going to be tied up in his business ashore for a while longer, Geran sat down at the desk and carefully drew out the pouch’s contents: two letters on parchment, one short, the other long. He looked at the short letter first. It read:
Narsk:
Proceed to Mulmaster, making port no later than the 5th of Marpenoth. Go to the concession of the Red Wizards and ask for Iomauld. Tell Iomauld that you have come for the starry compass and that the High Captain will arrange payment as is customary. Iomauld will explain the device’s operation to you. Install the compass and proceed to the rendezvous. If the Red Wizards desire immediate payment, pay them whatever they ask for the compass. I will compensate you. If the starry compass is not available or you run into some other difficulty, then do not linger in Mulmaster. You must be at the rendezvous without fail.
Kamoth
“‘Starry compass’? What is that?” Geran wondered. Some sort of magical device, it seemed. The Red Wizards were known as purveyors of enchanted items. Their fortresslike concessions were scattered throughout the cities of the Inner Sea, forbidding places where the mysterious expatriates of old Thay wove their sinister spells for anyone who could afford their services. In any event, that was likely what Narsk was doing this very moment ashore.
Geran set that letter aside and picked up the second letter. He’d just unfolded it when he heard Hamil’s voice in his mind: Narsk is returning, Geran! You’d better hurry up in there.
“Damn it all,” Geran muttered to himself. Quickly he skimmed the second letter:
Narsk:
No later than three hours after sunset on the 7th of Marpenoth, bring Moonshark to a point three miles south of the ruins of Seawave, on the shoreline twenty-five miles west of Hulburg. There will be a large bonfire ashore to aid in navigating to the rendezvous. Do not arrive too early, since we do not want the fleet to be spotted as it assembles. Stand off well out to sea until after dark if you need to. Once the Black Moon is gathered together, we will proceed to Hulburg and attack the city in the early hours of the 8th. Your assignment is to land Moonshark’s crew on the wharves by the House Sokol concession. This is the westernmost of the merchant tradeyards in the city, hard by the bluffs of Keldon Head. Wyvern will make her landing on the Double Moon wharves immediately to your right.
Your crew is to burn the Council Hall, where Hulburg’s Merchant Council meets. After that, they are free to slay, pillage, or burn as they please. There will be Black Moon men posted in front of places that are not to be harmed; make sure that your crew knows to listen to any man wearing a black armband. The rest of the town and its folk are yours to do with as you please.