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A stolen ship made escaping the Eslandolan forces quite a simple matter, but where were two highly unusual pirates to go after that? Who would welcome one woman steeped in death, and another who may not be all together alive? Where would no one notice such a pair of monsters? Charlatan Bay it was… In Charlatan Bay there was a tavern known as Flotsam’s Rest. Squeezed between other buildings in Low Town it was a dark, dingy place with no windows. No one was ever sure if the name referred to the clientèle, or the various oddities used to decorate the bar. It was an otherwise usual night until Yharnam and Harrow stalked in, scaring the other patrons out of their way. Secluded in a corner they considered their next objective believing their presence had gone without drawing undue attention. They were wrong, of course, and their discussions were quite rudely interrupted by the approach of two men. “Yes?” Harrow hissed at the men. “Would one of you two rather lovely women by Jack Yharnam, former captain of the… um, unfunny joke?” asked the first interloper. Jacqueline Yharnam looked unimpressed. Snikt. The man noted three things. Firstly, that he had never thought it humanly possible to move as quickly as Harrow did in that moment. Secondly, he had no idea where Harrow had retrieved that knife from. And thirdly, that he was loosing all sensation... As his body hit the floor his companion, more than a little rattled, tried to speak. “We meant no harm, cap’n,” he began, “we was sent by his Holiness the Bishop. His Holiness says he requests your audience, and ’as an offer of trade for you.” Yharnam approached him, slinking forward from her seat. Harrow still lurked nearby, licking the blood from her blade. It rather felt to him like being surrounded by predators. “What is he offering?” Yharnam asked. “Something about yer ship, cap’n,” the messenger said, “his Holiness says some ‘fortuitous circumstances’ have happened, and he can return ’er to you, but he needs sumthin’ from you.” Yharnam smiled a mirthless smile. “Lucky you,” she said, “you get to live through today. I will meet with your priest.” As they left the surviving messenger could only think one thing: That smile terrified him. Continued here. And some clean shots of the scenes: Flotsam's Rest is licensed as a Small Artisan property in Charlatan Bay.
