The Mysterious Letter
The Grey Wolf docked in Nicodranas amid the shouts and calls of the sailors as they tied off the lines.
Maal and Bastien exchanged a wary but excited look, both eager to start their new adventure and see what the big city had in store for them.
They’d had to leave Port Damali in a hurry after their cover had been blown, but that’s a story for another day.
The friends stepped off the Wolf and into the hustle and bustle of the docks. Sailors, merchants, and crew rushing here and there, carrying boxes, fishing nets, and big coils of rope.
They started off down the docks. Maal was smiling; they loved that moment of arrival in a new place where anything could happen.
“‘Scuse me,” a voice came, along with a tugging of their tunic. Maal looked around before settling their eyes on the halfling at their side.
An easy smile fell into place on Maal’s face. “Yeah?” They asked, not taking their eyes off the small person at their side, watching as he checked the page in his hand, seeming to compare what was there with the two in front of him.
“I’ve a letter for you,” the halfling said, holding out a folded sheet of paper, sealed with wax. Maal took it, hesitantly, and leaned over, putting a finger on the other page to catch a glimpse of what was in the halfling’s hands.
Maal’s eyes widened in surprise before the halfling pulled the page away, gave a slight bob, and disappeared as quick as they’d come.
“A letter?” Bastien asked, “to us?” A note of alarm in his voice. Maal shared his concern and shook their head, almost imperceptively, flicking their eyes to indicate they should move somewhere else.
In silence, they set off through the Restless Wharf to find a secluded corner to open the letter in. Bastien’s head swivelled around, keeping an eye out in case they were being followed.
“This is weird,” Maal said, once they found a spot and pulled the letter out of their pocket. “That halfling had an image of us, Bastien. It was clear as anything, looked like us standing on the Wolf deck.” They hesitated before finishing their thought. “If I didn’t know any better… I’d say it was from yesterday.” Concern crept across their face.
“Open it,” Bastien insisted, his own concern clearing warring with his curiosity.
Maal ripped open the blank wax seal and unfolded the page. All things considered, it was a very fancy letter, written on thick, white paper, in a shiny green ink.
“Your reputation precedes you, and your presence in my sphere of influence coincides with my hour of need. Someone of your particular talents would be most helpful to me, and the rewards will be suitable to the task. The task itself will be explained to you by my representative; you are to meet him at the Dawn Treader Inn on the Restless Wharf at the ninth hour tomorrow. Discretion is key to our success and your reward. In confidence, Z.”
Maal sucked in their breath. “Do you think our cover’s been blown?”
Bastien shook his head. “No. I think if we’d been recognised from what happened in Port Damali and they got word all the way to Nicodranas, we’d have been arrested.”
“You’re right,” Maal agreed. “Not sure if that makes this even more concerning.” A wry chuckle escaped their lips, relief settling on their face as they realised their cover was still intact.
“Let’s find somewhere close to the Dawn Treader to set for the night and talk about this,” Bastien said, leading the way down the docks.
It didn’t take them long to spot their fated inn or a seedier looking tavern close by.
The unwelcoming exterior of the Wayfarer’s Cove gave way to a darker, danker inside, the air stale and fishy smelling. Wooden barrels and stained barstools stood around the room. A large bar spread across the back, the shelves behind stocked with at least twenty different types of rum.
Maal heard Bastien make a sound of satisfaction at seeing the rum. “Right up our alley,” he said to Maal with a mischievous grin on his face. “And my kelp-like musk won’t be picked up in a bar like this! I’ll feel right at home,” he laughed and settled onto a stool in the corner.
Maal followed, laughing as they joined Bastien. “I’m glad we found a place your smell won’t upset the patrons. I’m tired of coming up with fish-scented lies.” They gave their friend a wink as a busty human barmaid showed up.
“What’ll I get yous?” she asked.
“Rum,” the two answered in unison. “Straight,” Bastien added. She nodded and went back behind the bar.
They sat in silence while they waited for their drinks, each seemingly deep in thought. Once they had their rum, they started to talk about the letter.
“I wish this was the first time a random halfling delivered me a mysterious letter,” Maal said. “But this one… Anonymous seal, generic hand, and who is Z? I don’t know about you, Bastien, but I’m intrigued.”
“Hah!” Bastien laughed. “Well, it’s definitely a first for me. And I am intrigued, too. I feel like we’re in one of those spy adventure books! We used to have a few on the Flintlock to pass the time on the long hauls.”
Maal let out a loud laugh. “We had books on our ships, too. A bit different to your books… Lots of pictures, if you know what I mean.” Maal clapped their hand onto Bastien’s shoulder. “I feel this is the beginning of a great adventure. Or a great misadventure. Either way, think of the stories we will tell.”
There were a few other tables of patrons around the tavern, some on their own, some in groups of twos and threes. Once they got their second round of rums, Maal and Bastien moved to one of the more jovial looking tables.
“Alright, fellas, what’s the word?” Maal asked after they and Bastien introduced themselves to Seamus, Davos, and Rosie.
Seamus shook his head. “It’s a sorry state of affairs,” he confided in them. “You can’t walk the bloody length of yourself without being accosted by the bloody Righteous Brand.”
“But they’re only here because of those terrifying Sahuagin raids,” Rosie said angrily, interrupting Seamus. “They’re up and down the coast from here, Nicodranas could be next!”
“Don’t be daft,” Seamus argued. “The Sahuagins won’t come here, not with all the Righteous Brand around.”
Then Davos butted in. “Who cares about that. The Revelry’s been ransacking our ships. We’ve had to hire our own mercenaries, and yeah, some of them are Rightgeous Brand, to try to keep our cargo.”
Maal could commiserate with Davos’s worry and said so. Over the evening, their conversation drifted between these serious moments, where Maal and Bastien would share worried looks, and fun and frivolity.
They decided to call it a night after Seamus drank a gallon of brine, vomited all over the Wayfarer’s Cove, and passed out. Maal and Bastien managed to slip upstairs to their room before they were kicked out.
“You really shouldn’t have dared Seamus like that, Bastien. Hilarious, but a real easy target. All it took was a few words of encouragement, you probably could have got him to do more than just the brine.”
Bastien laughed. “If he hadn’t passed out after what came out of him… We might have even got him joining the resistance!”
As they settled down into their simple beds, Bastien turned to Maal. “Remember, tomorrow I’m Bastien, from the port town of Stilben in Tal’Dorei. My parents were abusive jerks. Got out of there on the first ship that would take me. Let’s see… Ship-wrecked 6 months ago, we met soon after in Port Zoon? We’re in town looking for work? I don’t know how much this ‘Z’ actually knows about me… but I’ll try and keep my disguise as long as I can.”
“Not a problem, Bastien,” Maal said, turning their lumpy pillow to make it comfier. “I know your ‘backstory’ well. Happy to embellish if needed… like that time in Damali when I told them about the time your asshole father threw your pet goldfish back in the sea and you cried for three days straight.” They laughed at their own joke. “But for all intents and purposes, we’ve arrived to take stock of the local Nica rum supply for Geordie out in the Beaded Alley.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Written in collaboration from a roleplaying session with Josh (Bastien) and Jeff (The DM)
