Alistair Notelgamore, esq.

Alistair already had taken a little detour to get his equipment. He... didn't exactly look like he was going to hunt for rats, with an ornate brass breastplate over his shirt and a slender rapier whose basket was formed like a stag's head and antlers, but he really wasn't willing to take any chances after he had seen young Jack.

Which also meant he would rather not go down into the bilges in total darkness. "Grayson, wait, I'll see if I can't get us some sunrods from Grok." With that, Alistair headed towards Grok's store, adressing her as soon as he found her. "Grok, Plugg ordered us to get into the bilges, there are some fairly aggressive rats there... don't laugh, they almost bit Scrimshaw to death. You don't happen to have some Sunrods I could take? It's pitch black down there, and I'd rather not stab one of the others accidentally..."

Spoiler: rolls
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(1d20+9)[28] if a roll is needed... if I fail, Alistair could pay for them, he got his gold back, after all