A Great Reunion

Barely awake, I was today greeted by the giant inventor abandoning his charade and entrusting me with his motives. Appearently Nakor is not a commoner adept at tricks and with a penchant for oranges. Nakor, according to the inventor, is one of Kang's many heirs. I've heard of the bloody fights that often follow the ascension of a new leader of the nation, and it appears that Nakor was one of the many potential candidates that was rejected and cast out as he did not wish to be a general. The inventor seems adamant that Nakor smuggled with him a large amount of gold when the succession crisis did not go his way and escaped. The inventor has made it his mission to take a portion of this hoard, which Nakor seemed to have dismissed as a joke and laughed away. In a particulary weak moment, the inventor flipped and hit Nakor over the head and broke his memory. This explains a lot and makes me a bit wary of the inventor, he has resources that far exceeds what I would have expected. I need to keep an eye on him.
 
After dining a hearty breakfast at the tavern, we set out towards the capital. The warnings of the merchant in Amarley that there was a beast on the road was far from my thoughts, as the sea showed itself everytime we crested a hill. This was until we crossed yet a crest and we spotted a trashed cart with a merchant trapped underneath. The assailant was a lizard, a drake according to the mercenary, which was currently feasting on one of the merchants horses. As the merchant was calling for help, we wasted no time and went to the merchants aid. A bloody fight later, which ended with me piercing the lizard on my horns, we started to research the contents of the dead lizard. It was quickly revealed that the lizard had killed and devoured five of the mercenarys gang. I must say, the combat prowess of these five does not impress me. Our rag-tag gang of persons succeded in defeating the drake, but not these 5 highly trained mecenaries. Our mercenary seems to be a particulary skilled one, which is to our advantage of course.
 
I of course relieved the lizard of its head. We then proceeded to help the mercenary push his cart into town, and just like that we were in a town actually worth its name.
Well inside, i filled my lungs with that sweet harbourtown air, which had quite a strong tang of excrement to it, seeing as we passed a slum, but still - it was the air of the coast.
 
On our way to the captain of the guard, we passed through a shop keeped by an eccentric elf. He did however keep some interesting items. A belt made the little trickster almost best me in arm-wrestling. Almost.
 
We met up with the captain of the guard and saw to it that our felling of the beast was acknowleged. Appearently the mercenarys company was assigned to the kings closest guard. The captain seemed not particulary pleased about this fact. The fact that the mercenaries had perished in combat though, pleased him quite a bit. Seeing as the king seemed to have put his pet mercenaries to the test, he did not put out a bounty. We have a meeting with him tomorrow making sure that he knows just how poorly this was handled and how grateful he should be for our help.
 
On our way to the scribe that we were told could translate our sign and note, the mercenary went through great difficulty to explain the concept of haggling to the large inventor, who once again had donned his aloof and confused personality. This was a sight of great comedy, unlike anything I've ever seen. They could make a good entertainment troupe.
 
The scribe translated the symbols of the note and signs for us. The sign is as the mayor of Amarley told us - some kind of mark of ownership for an entire forest. Even I know you can't claim a forest. The note though, was worrying. It did not have a legible sentence, just a mass of all equally worrying words, "Pain don't keep trust enslaved king/captain/leader/commander". What the fuck did Thorpe do. Why the fuck did he choose to be this fucking dipped in shit with fucking illithids? Bloody things are supposed to be fairytales for drunkards and now the fucking pirate goes and seemingly tries to copy them. Thorpe is rapidly losing the right to his head.
 
The day carried with it happiness as well. In the harbour I found The Burning Sail, and up in the sail I found the jokester Brad. Fucking Brad! What a sight for fucking landlocked eyes. After agreeing to meet up with the old crew in The Sour Barracuda this evening, I could not resist the call for a bit of honest work on this beautiful ship. I must have lifted by far the most of all the workers, and made quite the impression on the new weaklings they've must have picked up in Nova Aera. The captain, Pryter, was just as pleased as I was, as I just doubled his packing speed. The first mate, which seems to be a poor recruitment, was not as pleased that I knew better techniques than him. Bloody earthworm, I know my way around this ship with my eyes closed, a fact I made very sure to show him during one of my rounds.
Pryter, very happily, paid me a hefty sum of 5 silver for my work. The weaklings got not nearily half the sum. I was going to do this for free but I'm not one to argue with an extra payment.
 
Meeting at The Sour Barracuda, we all reconvened. The whole gang was there - Brad, Chadwick, Pryter, Clink, Blink and Jorthrön. A merry time was had, for a while. For soon, I heard a disgusting gruff voice on the other side of the tavern. Turning around, I saw Flynn standing there, just as ugly as I remembered. Quickly deciding that there needed to be an enhanced interrogation, I pointed him out to the gang and they were quick to follow. Jorthrön at the door, Argor paid to look the other way, the rest of us gathering to have a "discussion" with Flynn.
The fuck was drunk out of his mind. The stool hitting his face woke him up. The little shit thought I was dead. I'm about to show him otherwise.