Warlock! Something is Rotten in Grim Biskerstaf...

"Nice and quiet. We’ll be on the water in no time!" Lambert says, also setting to work.

"We should be alone when we get there. Keep an eye out, all the same!"

Stealing Borrowing Foghorn's Boat
There's work to do to make the boat ready, and to oar it out into the river... there are watchmen to keep a lookout for, and there's the matter of navigating at night to a set of normally sunken ruins...

"Eyes peeled." Lambert says, as he watches the water. He didn’t expect to see light out here, not another vessel. He prayed he didn’t see anything long or sleek.

Elven like…

Stealing Borrowing Foghorn's Boat
The docks are as quiet as the Mermaid is loud, and Wolke grins as the watchmen make their rounds... moving away from Foghorn's ship, which Banio and Trusova are making ready...

Trusova gets the ship underway with Banio's help, but her expertise on the road does not translate well to the sea. The start of the journey is a rocky one!

"That’s it! Keep ‘er steady!" Lambert coaches as he keeps an eye out.

Banio does not so much row as straighten the craft, clinging to the oar with all of his childlike strength as Trusova propels them forward in lurching quarter-circles. He barely manages to keep them on course, but even that effort makes sweat bead on the little man's brow.

"So- about payment-" Banio huffs through clenched teeth. "After this- gonna need your- HELP-" Phelbt grunts as a particularly strong pull from the other side of the boat almost drags him off of his seat. "With a little thing. Hissainian ship. Simple enough for you."

Stealing Borrowing Foghorn's Boat
The coast is clear, but once the boat is untied and oars are dipped into the dark water -- Foghorn's expertise is immediately and sorely missed. The docks are a crowded and congested place, even at night, and avoiding other boats, barnacle-covered pilings, and dangerous-looking driftwood is a chore as Trusova and, to a lesser degree, Phelbt struggle to get the vessel out into the river proper.

Lambert was just about to start up about the coinage that would be passed dished out for tonight’s work, when Banio mentions a favor for a favor.

"Hissanian ship, is it? Want me to lift some silk for you? Easy enough." he whispers back as he tries to spot the ruin.

"That way! Get us over that way!" he gestures to the woman, assuming she’ll figure out the hows of navigating the docks.

Trusova confirms her willingness to help with the Hissainians. "A favour for a favour - fair trade."

Trusova isn't at home in the water, but she tries her best to guide the fisherman's damned temperamental boat. To the casual observer, it would seem she was using a steady stream of curse words to command the ship to obey her will, all the while wrestling the tiller into submission. Ultimately, she decides to light the ship's lanterns. She doesn't fancy capsizing the ship and taking a swim with the kind of things they had hauled out of the river earlier.

At the Ruins of Kellebrek
It is not easy going once the boat is steered out into the river proper; the current is strong and the water is so low that there are many obstacles to avoid -- obstacles that are normally covered by ten or even fifteen feet more of water. The bottom of Foghorn's pride bumps and scrapes unknown things in the dark water several times, but with the aid of lanterns hung fore and aft, they eventually make their way towards the strange, dark silhouettes that usually aren't present above the waterline.

As they silently drift closer, mottled red stone structures becomes visible -- ancient walls, rooves, and towers that are usually submerged, and that are covered in eelgrass, seaweed, and barnacles. The once smooth stone is knobby and nodulous in places; two of the three towers that loom before the three adventurers are broken and jagged. They look easier to scale than the third, which is the tallest by far, and in the best condition.

The trio is considering their approach when the ship lurches and almost capsizes. Turning sideways against the water, there are thumps and the groan of wood as it gets hung up on remains of the old city lurking just below the water. By the time it comes to a rest, the boat is listing almost forty degrees to the port side, and each of the three crew tumbled and slide towards the water!