Needing a replacement weapon, Reglas and his three companions make their way to a well known weaponsmith that has his shop down by the docks. It is said he tempers his steel in the blessed salt water of the bay giving it extra strength. His tradition of forging steel in the darkness of the night added to the mysteries of the weaponsmith, as well as his location far from anybody to bother with the incessant banging of hammer on anvil. Either way he came highly recommended and having to go to the empty docks at night was no worry to the four adventurers.
Taking yet another turn through an even darker alley, the adventurers hear the lapping of the waves on the docks. They also hear a clamor of loosed steel and the motion of feet as they are quickly surrounded. A fight ensues, but grossly outnumbered the great adventurers are finely taken down.
They awaken with the tilt of a ship on the open sea. Any glimpses they see of the water is an endless expanse of blue. They are chained at their wrists and ankles with the chain going through an eye hook in the floorboard and then connecting them to their bench mate. A stowed oar is resting in front of them ready to be deployed. Life as a galley slave can be hard.