Ludo gasped, “Golthar… it has to be him.” Turning to Hasan, he whispered, “This fortune teller is good.”
Feldard’s first thought was that this whole fortune-telling was a set-up. He also had noted that no one had come to claim the wreckage. His mind told him that the information being given was leading to a trap.. but then again.. if the party knew it was a trap.. they could go there and turn it about on Golthar. “Anyone seen this sign with the crossed swords?… A weaponsmith perhaps?”
Stephan wiped his brow. Mafka seemed a bit drained from the reading. He felt that way too.
“Thank you, ‘mum,” he stammered. “You’re giving me and my mates a good fright. Do you know this place…this sign of two crossed swords?”
“Nay, I be afraid ‘ave not,” replied the gypsy.
“He can’t expect us to find him so quickly,” argued Hasan. “this good fortune is surely one we should honor. Come now, let us make haste to the river!”. The elf began to move quickly through the crowds, making his way to the main street that led from the river to the central plaza.
Ludo decided to follow Hasan – he wasn’t all together sure it was a good idea to confront Golthar in his lair – but it shouldn’t hurt to go and have a look. If they were lucky they might be able to see Golthar and confront him while his defenses were down. Golthar was a mage – and magic was banned within the town walls.
Stephan hesitated as Hasan and the others started off. Turning to Mafka, “Thank you, madame. You have helped us a great deal.” He quickly helped the old woman gather her things.
“And you, son, had the eye and strength to keep these old bones around yet another day! It is you who deserve the thanks. I hope my sight for you can help you in some way. Tahyarrho.” And with that she started down that street at a pace Stephan thought not possible for her old knees.
Quickly, he turned just in time to see his mates disappear around a corner. He gave chase.
After asking a few townsfolk, eventually they became informed that the sign in the gypsy’s vision belonged to an abandoned inn on the wharfside of Fogor Isle.
Hasan led the group across one of the two stone bridges that crossed into Fogor Isle, which was the town’s main port and warehousing district. The streets and alleyways of the isle were dark and dingy. The group passed by a number of inns, shady storefronts and hard-looking folk. As they approached the deserted Crossed Swords Tavern, a group of twelve stevedores was offloading a boat nearby.
The painted sign of two crossed broadswords hung crookedly from a rotten support. All the windows were boarded up on the outside.