(the following was probably scried from Gerries spoon)
The pirates were on their second drink before the conversation became interesting.
“’ave ye ‘erd who the new Pirate Lady is?” Bootleg asked his companion, Ropelathe.
“Oo ‘asn’t!” He replied. “Everyone knows ‘bout that Ebon Lady! Comes out of nowhere and now she’s the first Lady since Wendelania! Apparently she’s with them heroes of Lauresnia, or something.”
“Yeah, so rumour has it. Strange bunch that lot. Eh! Heard what that Lady Gerry called her Bosun! Bobo! Musta hated him something right!”
“Yeah,” but Bootleg whisperers, “but heard what happens to him, I hear he tried to cross lady Gerry and he finds himself locked up in Cressellia’s cells. Reckon it’s only a matter of time before someone tries to poison him.”
“Man Luck too!” Ropelathe agrees. “You can bet if Great Lady Ebon’s with that Lauresia crew they won’t be missing him much. If not by their hand, by those that seek their favour.”
“Eye!” Bootleg agrees.
“So what you ‘ear about Ebon? She any good? Whose her bosun?”
“I know nothing” Bootleg protests. A single gold coin exchanges hands so quickly it cannot be seen.
“I ‘ear she’s pretty good,” Bootleg states, “there’s talk that she doesn’t have a bosun, runs it all herself. Say she’s quick, smart. Kinda pretty too, if humans are you style.”
They pause to look at each other.
“Naaa!” They both agree.
“So what ‘ave you ‘eard about them Lauresnian sorts?” Bootleg asks.
“I know nothing” Ropelathe argues.
Again the gold coin crosses the table.
“Everyone knows they’re trying to start a war.” Ropelathe begins,
“I ‘ear the wars going to start with or without us.” Bootleg argues, “there’s talk of some mad deity invading the sphere. They say not even the wizards can get out of the sphere any more. They say… not two years…”
“I ‘ear the same things.” Ropelathe agrees, and reluctantly slides the coin back. “Least it explains all the random aberrations turning up. Just last week uncle caught a pair of Gnarks sneaking around his deck. Now don’t go spreading rumours, but I reckon it’s those Laurensians who brought Enemy along with them. They say he’s after them, not us, but now we’re all caught up in it.”
“That’s good information….” Bootleg agrees. Ropelathe holds out his hand, and the coin moves back again. “Hey, wouldn’t it be weird if it was one of those temporial paladoxies, where they hadn’t turned up, there would be no enemy, but there’d be no us either!”
“Shut up!” Ropelathe scowls.
“Still,” Bootleg continues, “I hears those heroes’ of Lauresia were all over each others throats last week, that they found some sort of Divinity Sphere and went all nuts over it’s power. They say it almost turned violent.”
“Where you get your information!” Ropelathe scowls, “that’s rubbish.”
“Naw, way I reckons it, we pirates need to look after ourselves. And when that enemy comes, I’m running the other way.”
“And risk not fighting with Lady Ebon? I’d risk my mother for that chance. They say she’s rich…”
“Rich?”
“Rich, powerful.”
“How rich?”
“Why, her wealth would be… well, more wealth than you can imagine!” Rolling the coin along the table.
“I dunno,” Bootleg continues, watching its slow rolling, “I can imagine quite a …”
But his voice trailed off as a shadow crossed the tavern where they were drinking. A huge tower of stone, torn from the ground and held aloft by a sentient earthen crystal. While they were distracted, a small boy snatched up the coin before it could roll to its destination.
“I ‘ear he’s dating an abolyth.” Bootleg whispered.
“What!?” Ropelathe swore. “no ones going to take you seriously!”
“Just what I ‘eard.” Bootleg muttered. “Boats I get, but floating stone? That ain’t right.”
“Nothin’ right about all this. War. No one needs war...”