Nothing

The first crate bursts open and yellowish-white Bone Charms clatter across the twilight of the hold. The Greencoats trample them to powder with their heavy boots as their leader looks on, playing with a pair of dice. One is cast from brass, and the other chiselled from bone. You raise an exasperated objection.

The Dicey Inspector, complaining, puts away her bones. Her men have found nothing. You don’t say much more. The papers are in order, and they carry crowbars. But you do make passing mention of your barrister, the Weaselly Lawyer – and of the Cerulean Titan, the patron of your venture. And the Dicey Inspector, to your relief, agrees to postpone the search while she decides your case. Her men put away their tools, and the two of you enter the captain’s cabin, now strangely empty. She goes through the documentation again.

You lost [0] Reputation.

Your Reputation remains at 4 -- Ignored

”What a shambles.” She sets the papers down on the desk. ”What a waste of both our time. Nothing more pathetic than office intrigues.” She pulls a calling card from her vest pocket and hits the smooth tabletop with the thick paper. ”I apologise for the inconvenience. Listen,” she says and hands you the card. ”This is good for one favour.” She snatches it away. ”A small one. I usually hang out at the Pigskin Drum. Should you have need to find me.”

You have gained [1] Favour: Greencoats.

You now have [1] Favour: Greencoats

She winks, taps the brim of her hat, and removes herself – and her men – from the Demeter.

You have gained [1] Connected: Greencoats

Your Connected: Greencoats is now: 1 – Occasionally seen at the Pigskin Drum

You turn the card over in your hand and realise that it is not her name printed on the fine paper, but some other flatfoot. A favour is a favour, you suppose, even if it is betokened by the name of a strange man. A man whose office address is the Pigskin Drum.

You have finally reached your destination.