Get Thee to a Nunnery
Whisperleaf-the-Sparrow approached the Galleon from the stern. The spell that the Caretaker had laid on him still burned in the back of his mind, like an itch, or a mental arrow in his subconscious. Sister Clara was aboard that ship. There was no doubt of it.
His companions were not far away, innocently piloting the jollyboat through the approach to the town of Puerto Lejos, just some fishermen on their way back to town, nothing to see here. The town lacked docks large enough to allow bigger ships to moor directly on the waterfront, so the larger vessels were forced to anchor out in the harbor and load and unload their cargo via smaller boats and barges. As a result a myriad of smaller boats crowded the bay, providing a perfect opportunity to blend in and not be noticed.
One of these ships anchored out in then harbor was The Summer Gale, the last known location of the missing Sister Clara. And her current location based on the tickle in Whisperleaf's mind.
Alter some discussion, the companions had decide to approach cautiously and scout the vessel out, before taking action. Deciding the size and obviously warlike nature of the The Lady Jezebel would attract far too much attention, were she to boldly sail into the harbor, they had left the frigate moored near the Caretakers Tower, over the horizon from the town. This had meant crossing the last ten leaguers of sea in the open Jollyboat, a cold and wet prospect in the tiny craft, but safe enough in this sheltered archipelago. Hopefully this should allow them to fly under he radar of the town and avoid attention.
As the boat drew near to the Galleon, Whisperleaf quietly transformed into an unassuming sparrow and winged toward it.
The Galleon was lightly occupied, most of it's crew doubtlessly enjoying shore leave at the nearby town. Still, a half dozen sailors were visible scattered across the deck and rigging. Even moored as she was directly under the guns of the nearby fortifications, the Northern Reach was still far too dangerous to leave such a valuable prize unmanned, begging to be stolen.
This was actually good for Whisperleaf, as it meant enough hatches, doors and windows were open to allow him easy entry.
Whisperleaf had only been on one of these Inner Archipelago Galleons once, for a formal dinner during the initial passage to the Northern Reach from Haven Town. That had been nearly six months ago, however if his memory served, the layout of the ship hadn't been that different from The Lady Jezebel. If he was hiding away a prisoner, he'd put them in one of the officers cabins on the lower deck, below the waterline. That seemed a logical place to start his search.
Fortunately one of the sailors was taking his ease, smoking, on the rear gallery, and he had left the door open behind him, providing easy entry into the Great Cabin, which was located directly above the lower deck. If the layout was similar to what he was used to, the Great Cabin should provide easy access to the lower decks.
Whisperleaf didn't hesitate, fluttering right past the startled sailor and into the Great Cabin.
Inside, the cabin was empty, and even better the door was ajar!
The huge open room seemed unoccupied. The ship's cannon were missing, likely stored below, gunports securely shut, and the room was filled with cargo. Over in the corner, he could see the stairs heading down, lower into the ship.
Whisperleaf flittered down the stairs and into the lower deck. As expected, this deck was devoted to crew accommodations. The forward part of the deck was one large room, the infamous quarters "before the mast" where the crew (the Foremast Jack's as they were called) hung their hammocks, packed in like sardines. The rear of the deck was divided up into small cabins for the more senior members of the crew that had earned the right to a small amount of privacy.
This room was not empty. Three sailors lounged around a small table, playing cards. They were armed with pistol and cutlass, which was pretty unusual for sailors below decks in a friendly port.
"Bingo" Whisperleaf thought to himself.
He perched on a barrel and carefully observed the scene. All the cabin doors were shut, while the itch in his head from the spell was pretty clear that Sister Clara was here somewhere, it wasn't precise enough to tell him which cabin.
Whisperleaf-the-sparrow flittered to the next window. Also empty.
He could hear the three sailors talking amongst themselves, while they listlessly gambled. So far he hadn't been noticed.
He quickly searched the cabins on the port side, all empty. He flittered across to the starboard side.
"Aye what was that then?" one of the sailors caught a glimpse of the small sparrow flying across the hallway.
"Bird got in sumhow" the second replied. They went back to their game.
Taking a bit more care to keep his movements hidden, Whisperleaf-the-sparrow began going from window to window on the starboard side cabins. On the third cabin, he found his quarry.
Sister Clara was easy to recognize from her description, a large women with short brown hair. Big boned and muscular, she filled the small cabin with her size. She lay on the bed, quietly reading a dog eared holy book. She didn't appear injured or mistreated in any way.
Whisperleaf turned back toward the sailors, still engrossed in their game. He squeezed through the bars and fluttered inside the room. He flittered over to the far corner across from the bed, virtually the only space in the cabin big enough for a person to stand upright. He knew he was taking a risk now. The original plan had been to find the nun's location and how she was being guarded, and then return. He was pushing his luck here, but he had an opportunity and had decided to take it.
As the small sparrow started to transform back into the form of the lanky elven druid, Whisperleaf was frantically making "shushing" gestures and noises almost before he had vocal chords or hands to make them. Fortunately Clara was a cool one, after an initial gasp of astonishment she kept her silence.
"Don't say anything" Whisperleaf-the-Elf hissed. "My name is Whisperleaf and I am here to rescue you,"
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"We were a little worried when we heard those pistol shots” Dakhir remarked as The Sturg rowed the jollyboat toward the town's wharf. "Glad to see you made it back in one piece."
"Me too" Whisperleaf replied ruefully. "I guess I pushed my luck a bit too far. I don't think those guards were ever suspicious, they were just bored and decided to bet on who could shoot the sparrow. Bastards"
Ricmo looked beck from where he was tending the jollyboat's sail. "You know it occasionally occurs to me that maybe one of us should help row this thing. I mean it has a dozen oars"
The Sturg as usually didn't say anything. His mighty arms moved rhythmically, with strokes so powerful that the large, heavy boat leapt ahead with each stroke and the heavy wooden oars visibly bowed from the strain. Stroke, stroke, stroke the boat cut through the water fast enough to raise a bow wake, Normally Radiant Lightbringer or Ozraeline at least, would be assisting, but the party had decided given Radiant's recent notoriety with the local chapters of the Church it was probably better to keep him hidden back on the ship. Ozraeline had staid back as well, to serve as interim captain.
Dakhir smiled. "I don't think he really needs the help. I think we'd just get in his way. Some say he's nothing but gears in there, you know, mighty springs, clockwork and oil. All I know is, he is called The Sturg."
The small town had clearly seen better days. While there where a fair number of ships in the harbor, and the docks were busy with cargo, the town center was somewhat dilapidated and run down, despite the gleam of it's golden domes. Outside of the town center, entire neighborhoods appeared to be completely abandoned, except for a few tent encampments of what appeared to be recently arrived refugees. In the past, the town had clearly boasted a population much larger then it currently had.
Still, while the civilian infrastructure was dilapidated you couldn't say the same about the military. Large forts ringed the harbor, guarding it from every approach, culminating in a massive black fortress that loomed over the town. A tall stone wall studded with watchtowers secured the only landward approach, to the north, While lightly manned, they fortifications were impressive, especially for so small of a town.
"Rare to see galleys this far out in the Reach" Tello commented. "Still, I guess they could still be effective in this sheltered archipelago, assuming the right winds and weather." The Tortle started mumbling to himself about winds and tides and then took out what appeared to be a protractor made of driftwood, and began to measure arcs and angles.
The Sturg neatly rowed the boat up to a small wooden pier. Ricmo hopped out and made fast.
"So just to remind everyone, according to Cellarist Hannah, this is a company town" Dakhir began. "House Vetinari owns it lock, stock and barrel, the Governor is their puppet and what they say, goes around here. That complicates matters since the Summer Gale is a Vetinari ship. Since it seems unlikely we can just go up and ask the Vetinari nicely to give us our nun back, we need to keep a low profile and feel our way carefully. Now just because the Vetinari run the place, doesn't mean they run everything. Sister Hannah gave us some contacts that she thought would be helpful."
"Right!" Whisperleaf interjected. "The three sisters that run the inn called 'Last House Westerly'. Gordon Rough, who runs Rough's General Store."
"And Pigfucker" grinned Ricmo. "Don't forget Pigfucker."
"Doubtlessly an interesting story there" interjected Tello. "The Curari people are known to name their children from omens overserved in the natural world during the time of the child's birth. Doubtlessly an interesting story..."
"She said he was solid though, did the Cellarist" grinned Ricmo. "I must admit I want to meet this gentleman."
"Best be careful with his name, friend Halfling." the Tortle continued. The Curari are an utterly fearsome tribe, known cannibals. They cover themselves in magical tattoos, their art in that craft is matched by none. And they take offense easily." Added a bit mischievously. "They are said to prize Halfling meat over all else. Due to the tenderness, you understand."
Ricmo looked momentarily uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject, "so where to first?"
"The Inn" Freddy answered immediately.
Dakhir shook his head. "What an unexpected suggestion, Fred."
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The Last House Westerly, located as it was on the extreme southwestern edge of Puerto Lejos, was reputed to be the most westerly inn in the world. It was certainly the most westerly building in the town. From here the land rose steeply until it met the sea as a great cliff, at least five hundred feet tall which the locals called "The Cliff of Insanity". Other then a tall and allegedly haunted watchtower known as The Duke's Tower, no buildings graced the cliffs other then a few battery of cannon.
Since there weren't any real settlements west of Puerto Lejos, at least not until you got to Gianthome, it seemed to Freddy that "westernmost inn" was a reasonable moniker to claim. Giants probably didn't have inns anyway. At least not human sized ones. Freddy brightened. He was about to drink at the most westerly inn, in the world. There was something to brag about to the other bards of the Ensemble when he finally returned to Valoria. If he ever returned to Valoria.
The Inn was large, and as was often the style in the Thousand Islands, it was actually multiple buildings haphazardly arrayed around a large, low walled central courtyard. The courtyard was relatively quiet for it's size, though Freddy did spot a large wagon offloading produce near a building, which, judging by the pleasing aroma was likely the kitchen. A plump, middle aged woman was supervising the unloading, while complaining about the quality of the goods.
Inn's were Freddy's native habitat. He beelined for the middle aged woman, trailing his friends behind him, doffed his hat and flashed his most winning smile. "Afternoon ma'am. My name is Fantastic Freddy and these are my companions. We are newly arrived in your fair town from the Abbey of St Ursula, and in need of lodging. Might you direct us to one of the Carr sisters?"
"I'm Emma Carr" she replied. She took a moment to size Freddy up a grin slowly stealing across her face. "And you don't look like a nun. Or a monk for that matter."
"No ma'am I do not have that honor" Freddy grinned back.
From inside the kitchen a young, pretty girl in a sky blue frock emerged. She had long, blonde hair, tied back in a single braid, and was holding a head of lettuce.
"This won't do Emma, this lettuce's gone off.....omg it's Fantastic Freddy!" she ended in a squeal. "OMGOMGOMG" as she started jumping up and down.
Freddy smiled.
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Even without Freddy's star appeal, the three Carr sisters would have been sympathetic to their cause. Abigail Carr, the oldest of the three, a stern elderly woman was clearly calling the shots and also clearly had a strong understanding and a long history of cooperation with the Abbess of Saint Ursula's. From her perch on a highbacked chain in one of the Inn's inner dining rooms, she listened quietly, templeing her hands as Whisperleaf, Ricmo and Dakhir laid out their quest, while Freddy quietly flirted with Lily Carr in the corner. Her face as smooth and impassive as she took it all in, frowning slightly when they got to the part with the Veterini involvement.
When they caught the Carr's up to the present day, Abigail sat back and let out a long sigh.
"Well I am not sure how much I can help you with this, quite a sticky wicket, but the one thing I will say is our doormat of a Governor (hush Lily you know it's true) won't touch this with a ten foot pool, and walking straight up to Lorenzo Vetrini and accusing one of his family of kidnaping nuns is not going to go over well, at least not without a lot more evidence then you have."
"We need to free the nun" agreed Whisperleaf. "Catch them red handed. The ship is not heavily guarded, it can be done."
"It's not the ship you should be worried about." interjected Emma, the middle aged sister. "It's the cannon from the Triquerta forts. She's lying right under a dozen big guns manned by the Red Watch, unless your rescue is flawless, those forts are going to get involved."
"It'll have to be flawless then." said Ricmo. "We need a distraction."
"I have just the plan" grinned Freddy.
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