"I think that's what Rain's dream was telling her, Flynn-san."
"Possibly, mate," I say, my voice dropping a bit "I'm no auger, that's a certainty - but what did strike me hard was the omen of the date, eh?"
I glance about.
"Did you mark it well on the date Rain had her dream? 'Twas the wee hours of the 6th of Arodus. That's a damn auspicious day for any and all who would fight the forces of darkness... Just see your histories," I add with a nod.
"But if you're right, lad - then the time of a reckoning be coming. Be we better keep a long memory on those that need it. If you recall - this little adventure came after we were rolled at that bloody tavern. One day someone needs to return there and offer the proprietor a special thanks for such fine drinks as that..." I say a dark glower.
Not having much to say on the topic of discontent, Dhaavan spends much of the evening simply chatting with whomever comes to him regarding tattoos, and drumming up business and such among the crew, chatting pleasantly, swapping stories and endulging in his taste for history and stories from those from other places.
Diplomacy:
"Well Flynn, fyne service deserves fyne repayment, eh?" he adds to the conversation with a smirk.
Facing Flynn with a serious expression on her face, in low voice she repeats the information she shared with him yesterday morning,
"The dream came to me once more. The night after the first dream. Every detail was the same. I had prayed to Gozreh before I retired to my hammock. The god was repeating him/herself, heeding me to understand. This is what I believe."
Then addressing Jiro, Rain nods her head in the young man's direction. "Jiro's music does bring a measure of peace and is something to praise aboard this vessel. There are good people sailing with us, although they have been brought to heel by Plugg. I will not bow before him as my better. I bid my time, watch, and aye, Flynn, when the time is right, he shall be brought to justice, one way or another, through the vision of the gods."
Rain's turquoise eyes shine with a deep blue fire at their core. Her anger is leashed for now. But as Gozreh's lightning strikes true, so shall my anger. I will wipe the amused, sick smile off your face, Plugg.
Valeros listens to the others talk as he settles himself in for the night. At Rain's mention of her dream, he leans over towards her and the others. It is a strange thing indeed. I had the same dream the other night. Exact down to the last detail it seems from your description. The sea does seem intent on getting a message across, so much so that it's becoming easier to hear. Perhaps we'll see a sign of this in the days to come.
He settles back and nods towards Variel. That man has the right of it. This vessel may be a pox on us, but I for one have heard tales of worse. Captains that sate their taste for blood on their own crew. Crews kept from the peace of the grave to serve eternally on the Fever Sea. Certainly things could be better but this is the Shackles. Here, things could easily be a lot worse.
Not having much to say on the topic of discontent, Dhaavan spends much of the evening simply chatting with whomever comes to him regarding tattoos, and drumming up business and such among the crew, chatting pleasantly, swapping stories and endulging in his taste for history and stories from those from other places.
Diplomacy: 1d20+12"Well Flynn, fyne service deserves fyne repayment, eh?" he adds to the conversation with a smirk.
I look at him quizzically.
"What are you offering to repay me for? Helping you with the getting you up the rigging?" I say, somewhat perplexed.
Then, as if the meaning slowly dawned on me, my eyes widen.
"Oh - you mean because you gave me a hand in the water, eh?" I say with a sage nod; miming his spell casting when I suggest "giving me a hand".
I glance around see we're not overheard; when the coast is clear, I proceeed -
"Well, truth to tell; though I seemed to be doing right fine swimming on my own when I reached Rosie lass, and hauled her to the surface on my own right enough, and was swimming for the ship well and true on my own - still, if anyone I would thank - it seems only fitting it be the lad Sko. Hell, he was so friendly like in the water, I didn't even reckon he was naught but a dolphin when I saw him at first - his actions belied anything else - and when it finally dawned on me it was a shark - by then I knew sorcery was afoot, and he was a trusty," I add with a chuckle.
My eyes become serious, then.
"But here's the thing then, mate," I say somewhat deliberately to Dhaavan.
"The only thing about payment that rankles me is when coin or loot is afoot and it's not all shared even; unless a contract be made beforehand on the subject that says otherwise which all folk agree to - in which case a lad should stick by it."
"But for now I reckon that you and I be mates - you help me as best as you can, and I'll do the same for you. And," I say a bit pointedly "If we be talking much on debt and payment; consider this - if you're neck is in the noose and you don't have the coin, that would mean I take a nap while you dance the Danny Deever, eh?"
"Or - we could be mates, right and true - and if you fell in the drink like Rosie lass - I'd be diving after you, just as I did her - and when I hauled your arse onto deck I wouldn't be leaning on you for coin; I'd be offering you a hot drink, a good smoke, and a spare blanket, if I had it - just like I did for her."
I glance at the beams aloft.
"But I'll tell you what I'll do, lad - you're a smart one, I reckon, but you tack back and forth worse then a frigate in shallow water. Here and now, you make the call, eh? You want to business partners who only help each other for coin - or you want to be mates; who split coin and loot equal-like, and help each other best as we can, to our limit - and not talk on things like debt and what we "owe" each other, as if we're bloody lawyers or some such nonsense, eh?"
I rub my chin absently - realizing it has been two days since my last shave, and I take out my shaving kit and begin to shave, and then trim my beard as I wait.
"Take your time, lad - though I tell you, before now I reckoned you were a mate, and a trusty, and treated you as such - but if that isn't to your liking - if you want to be only business partners... Well, you make the decision now, and I'll stick by your choice."
"Though I ought to say in fairness that I tend to be a bit more generous with my mates then those who only do business with me, if that matters much. But again - you make the choice on this and I'll say no more, but stick by it: mate or just business partner. What will it be, just tell me your choice," I add, waiting for his response.
Facing Flynn with a serious expression on her face, in low voice she repeats the information she shared with him yesterday morning,
"The dream came to me once more. The night after the first dream. Every detail was the same. I had prayed to Gozreh before I retired to my hammock. The god was repeating him/herself, heeding me to understand. This is what I believe."Then addressing Jiro, Rain nods her head in the young man's direction. "Jiro's music does bring a measure of peace and is something to praise aboard this vessel. There are good people sailing with us, although they have been brought to heel by Plugg. I will not bow before him as my better. I bid my time, watch, and aye, Flynn, when the time is right, he shall be brought to justice, one way or another, through the vision of the gods."
Rain's turquoise eyes shine with a deep blue fire at their core. Her anger is leashed for now. But as Gozreh's lightning strikes true, so shall my anger. I will wipe the amused, sick smile off your face, Plugg.
I nod at her words.
"By Milani, I pledge that justice happens sooner, rather then later," I add with a cold gleam in my eye.
"Stand true to your dream, then - and look toward your patron. Strange things are afoot - and I reckon we'll have the chance to act on them sooner then later. When that happens... I'll stand beside you; you can count on that."
Valeros listens to the others talk as he settles himself in for the night. At Rain's mention of her dream, he leans over towards her and the others. It is a strange thing indeed. I had the same dream the other night. Exact down to the last detail it seems from your description. The sea does seem intent on getting a message across, so much so that it's becoming easier to hear. Perhaps we'll see a sign of this in the days to come.
He settles back and nods towards Variel. That man has the right of it. This vessel may be a pox on us, but I for one have heard tales of worse. Captains that sate their taste for blood on their own crew. Crews kept from the peace of the grave to serve eternally on the Fever Sea. Certainly things could be better but this is the Shackles. Here, things could easily be a lot worse.
I continue to shave - and respond to Valeros without looking over at him.
"I reckon that here - like any other place on this bloody Plane - a man's fate is what he makes of it. If he accepts the domination of others above him - then he accepts his place as a slave to them. For me - I don't fancy being a slave, and rather would be free of such domination. Though, though, for now, I can be patient," I add, as I then look at my hair absently, checking for lice or other signs of disease with the mirror in my shaving kit.
Waiting for Sko to be near, I look up at him when he approaches; again making sure that we're not around any "prying ears".
"That reminds me, lad - my thanks for what you did in the water. You took a risk with showing your power - and now it's likely that your secrets out - and that may not sit well with the other folk who noticed it, some might say. But I say, if any did see it - you could use it."
"As some of them folk from back east," I say with a glance at Jiro "your "face" is huge, now; your stature, well, I reckon that it's got to have grown enormously with these folk."
"Now you're the lad who beat one of their best with his bare hands - and when they offered you loot for it, you turned it down. So they know now that coin has no hold on you, for you gave the earnings back as if it didn't even matter, and it would seem that they can't just "buy" your alliance, they have to earn it. And that might be worth it to them, because not only can you fight well, but now it's clear that you can turn into a killer of the sea at will - hell, mate - who knows what else you can do?"
"Anyhow - if that matters much to you; I'd say you've improved your standing a lot. That's good. And again - I see you as a mate," I say with a quick glance to Dhaavan, wondering what his decision on my earlier question will be "but it's right and true to say - "Thank you, kindly" - even to a mate, when he does you service."
"Well - here's hoping we're mates, then - and not just business partners," I add with a somewhat involuntary tip of my hand to my brow, as if I was saluting him; though the gesture is quite sincere.
"Well Flynn, fyne service deserves fyne repayment, eh?" he adds to the conversation with a smirk."What are you offering to repay me for? Helping you with the getting you up the rigging?" I say, somewhat perplexed.
Then, as if the meaning slowly dawned on me, my eyes widen.
"Oh - you mean because you gave me a hand in the water, eh?" I say with a sage nod; miming his spell casting when I suggest "giving me a hand".
Dhaavan waits patiently with a bemused look on his face for Flynn to finish, and when he is sure he will not be interrupting, he pauses a moment, as if taking his time and considering the options Flynn game him.
With that he laughs so hard he almost falls over. "Flynn I were talking about repaying the barkeep and such at the Formitably Maid!" Dhaavan laughs again, glad to have his voice back, and missing the sound of his laughter, the feel of it, "Ya see, you said we aught to thanks the proprietor for the special drinks, an' then I agreed what we should repay the fine service."
After another light rolling laugh Dhaavan says That was all. We mates, so don't worry bout it. I got no interest in a debate about what we find or tradin' favors, unless I got to, but it's sooooo much to keep track of." With another chuckle, Dhaavan suggests "Yea don't need ta take things so harsh mate, savvy?"
While working and chatting, he does make a point to catch Shivikah's eye. While working he gives an invitation, "Is there anythin' ya'd like me ta do fer yea, this evenin'?" he says,
not only talking about tattoos in thinly veiled innuendo.
He also makes a point of seeing how Samms and Sandara like their Tatts.
"Well Flynn, fyne service deserves fyne repayment, eh?" he adds to the conversation with a smirk."What are you offering to repay me for? Helping you with the getting you up the rigging?" I say, somewhat perplexed.
Then, as if the meaning slowly dawned on me, my eyes widen.
"Oh - you mean because you gave me a hand in the water, eh?" I say with a sage nod; miming his spell casting when I suggest "giving me a hand".
Dhaavan waits patiently with a bemused look on his face for Flynn to finish, and when he is sure he will not be interrupting, he pauses a moment, as if taking his time and considering the options Flynn game him.
With that he laughs so hard he almost falls over. "Flynn I were talking about repaying the barkeep and such at the Formitably Maid!" Dhaavan laughs again, glad to have his voice back, and missing the sound of his laughter, the feel of it, "Ya see, you said we aught to thanks the proprietor for the special drinks, an' then I agreed what we should repay the fine service."
After another light rolling laugh Dhaavan says That was all. We mates, so don't worry bout it. I got no interest in a debate about what we find or tradin' favors, unless I got to, but it's sooooo much to keep track of." With another chuckle, Dhaavan suggests "Yea don't need ta take things so harsh mate, savvy?"
My eyes narrow at that.
"Ah yes, the place where we got rolled and forced into this mess."
"Too much of a coincidence that we all got the same sleeping brew, though we had different drinks. No - that was planned - and it was planned by those who gave the drinks. In this, as our fortune's were twisted by their plans - I think that when it comes to such debts, we ought to think very clearly on repaying them - and specifically the owner of that establishment."
"Sorry that I misunderstood you, then. It seems my wits were dulled by the rum again..." I add with grunt.
"Well then, I'm pleased to see we're allied; and you can count on me to back you as I have been so far."
"And I agree completely; they are overdue for repayment. But as I said - I can be patient," I say leaning back to get somewhat more comfortable.
"I have come to believe that Dhaavan is resourceful enough even though he has no strength or ability to work a ship." Rain fixes a pointed looked at the skinny human who seems to have had his voice returned to him. That will make him happy, she muses privately.
Dhaavan sees Rain's pointed look, but takes her words as a complement, smiling, "Thank you Rain. I have started figuring out this rig alright, but I'm a born'n'bred landlubber so I ain't got the natural talents what some o' the crew does. But what ya lack in one area, ya got to try to make up for elsewhere, I say." He is certainly pleased to be talking again, glad that Peppery decided to return his voice without any convincing.
Valeros listens to the others talk as he settles himself in for the night. At Rain's mention of her dream, he leans over towards her and the others. It is a strange thing indeed. I had the same dream the other night. Exact down to the last detail it seems from your description. The sea does seem intent on getting a message across, so much so that it's becoming easier to hear. Perhaps we'll see a sign of this in the days to come.
Rain ponders Valeros' intriguing disclosure and asks directly (but with a certain level of discretion), "Valeros, do you believe in the gods, and if so, is there a god that you follow more faithfully than the others?"
I nod at her words.
"By Milani, I pledge that justice happens sooner, rather then later," I add with a cold gleam in my eye.
"Stand true to your dream, then - and look toward your patron. Strange things are afoot - and I reckon we'll have the chance to act on them sooner then later. When that happens... I'll stand beside you; you can count on that."
"This Milani, is your patron, Flynn? I confess I have not heard the name mentioned before, but once or twice by your own lips aboard this vessel."
Flynn's oath to stand beside her at the precise moment of action reassures her. "We must stand true to each other, as well. I accept your allegiance. Amin sinta thaliolle e dagor."
V,
S,
Dhaavan sees Rain's pointed look, but takes her words as a compliment, smiling, "Thank you Rain. I have started figuring out this rig alright, but I'm a born'n'bred landlubber so I ain't got the natural talents what some o' the crew does. But what ya lack in one area, ya got to try to make up for elsewhere, I say."
"If you are a born and bred landlubber, Dhaavan, then why did you come to Port Peril? A rather strange choice for someone such as yourself, for life on the sea is hard at the best of times. You can captivate with your words, I do not dispute this, but there must be more to your choice, when you undertake this type of life."
Sko turns to Horatio and manages a weak smile, though you do notice that compared to earlier in the day, he looks like crap. "I appreciate the sentiment, thanks. I had *Cough, Hack, Wheeze*, excuse me, I had tried to stay underwater as much as possible. I only transformed twice, *COUGH, ahem*, so unless they saw the actual process I'm hoping no one else will make the connection. If I can meditate in the morning, I'll get some curative magics ready."
Sko looks down at the rum with increasingly bleary eyes. Even though his throat feels dry the thought of drinking the rum turns his stomache. Ah, to the Abyss with it!
Sko tosses his entire rum ration and cup overboard. The thought occurs to him, slowly penetrating his foggy brain, that everyone has just seen him do this makes him realise he needs to say something. He stands, "As you can see, my body is now afflicted just like *cough, wheeze, COUGH*, sorry, just like my heart is. No alcohol shall ever pass my lips again until me affections are acknowledged." Sko gives a brief glance up towards the officers and he, assuming a lack fiery smiting on the way, makes his way to his bunk and passes out.
Dhaavan smiles and leans back slightly, glad to get to use his voice again, "Well, I was born on a boat in a storm. Not out at sea, mind yea, but my folks told me it were a hell of a time anyway. They said that the storm didn't stop till I got too tired o' screamin and fell asleep. Said it were Besmara herself what got all riled up 'n got it stormin like that, an she's been meddelin in me business my whole life! So eventually I quit runnin from the seas, and fate, if ya believe the mad seers what read portents and such."
He chuckles and gives a shrug to the heavens and laughs asking nobody in particular, "So what better place to run into the loving arms the Pirate Queen than Port Peril?"
I nod at her words.
"By Milani, I pledge that justice happens sooner, rather then later," I add with a cold gleam in my eye.
"Stand true to your dream, then - and look toward your patron. Strange things are afoot - and I reckon we'll have the chance to act on them sooner then later. When that happens... I'll stand beside you; you can count on that."
"This Milani, is your patron, Flynn? I confess I have not heard the name mentioned before, but once or twice by your own lips aboard this vessel."
Flynn's oath to stand beside her at the precise moment of action reassures her. "We must stand true to each other, as well. I accept your allegiance. Amin sinta thaliolle e dagor."
My eyes darken a bit at the question.
”Nay – she was my mum’s patron… My… my mother was a priestess to Milani; and the goddess asks a lot of her followers,” I add, my voice seeming a little distant at this.
”She calls on them that follow her and asks that they obey her, even unto death."
"Well, my mother met up with a group of her folk one night to fight some plantation owners who had bought some Mwangi folk off from another Mwangi tribe - the two tribes fought a lot it seems, and one was allied to the city, the other was an enemy to the city."
"The plantation owners... well, they were using the tribesmen as slaves in the field – not serfs or indentured types, but slaves. Mother said that anyone would tolerate such slavery wasn't right... A lot of times she brought the issue to the magistrate and governor; tried to get them to change their views on the matter.”
”Of course her work failed. The governor said the slaves were fair to use, as they were taken from a tribe who had warred with one of our allies – but mother didn’t seem to agree on this point. So one night, she went out to help free the slaves – and she never came back.”
”Her dying was on account of Milani... That's how I see it, I should say, aye; Milani robbed my mother from me,” I add – the scowl now evident on my face.
”I was only a lad at the time, but I haven’t forgotten. But as for her my patron? Ha!” I add with a short laugh.
”Let’s just say twixt me and the goddess there be an understanding. I’ll fight for her cause, as my mother before me – but there be a debt that needs to be repaid at some point… and she's the one who owes me. I won’t be forgetting that debt, neither,” I add, the last almost to myself.
I shake myself out of my stupor; and seem to reconsider things a moment.
"But for all of that, I guess she's a good goddess to have on your flank," I add, wiping the anger from my face with a weary gesture.
"Her folk, them that follow her... They did some hard fighting in Cheliax a few years back - her people liberated a lot of the outlying towns and ports around the edges of Cheliax from those from the Inferno that came against and dominated... They did some good work there, freed up a lot of those folk from them that ruled them..."
I pause a moment, leaning back a moment, thinking about that, and other things.
"Anyhow, she backs any who want to fight for Liberation, Freedom, Restoration.... and... Revolution," I say the last with a cool gaze at the beams above, as if my eyes alone would pierce through the timbers to strike at them who had enslaved us.
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Heal check
Feeling tired and worn out from the day's exertions, all Variel wants to do is go to sleep. The conversation is stimulating, but the body need's rest. I am sorry to take me leave from you all, wheeze, ahem, ahem, but I am heading down for the night. Hope to talk to you all tomorrow. Have a good night's sleep everyone, Rain you too. Hopefully I feel better in the morning. Seems I have a bit of a tickle in my throat. ahem, ahem.
Valeros watches as some of the men cough around him but he doesn't hear the deep chesty phlegm of a serious illness so he simply shrugs. Some rest will do them well.
At Rain's question he shrugs noncommittally. It's hard not to believe in them when you can see their works so easily. But I do not worship them. Gozreh may have created the oceans but she is her own now. It is she who speaks to me. The unending crash of the waves, the gentle flow of the rivers, even the rage of the storm; all of these are stories she is trying to tell. Some of us are just able to hear them more than others.
It is sad really that most miss out on so beautiful a thing. Valeros seems to collect himself and laughs softly, trying to hide his discomfort at having said so much about himself.
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I have always been a follower of Besmara, but can honestly say that I have never listened to her try to talk. I thought that was mostly nonsense from charlatans trying to make some coin on the street. ahem ahem Don't get me wrong here, I follow Besmara as much as I can, but those prophesying in her name just seemed false at the time. If you can actually listen to her when she talks that is quite important. Perhaps I have not been listening correctly. Would you show me her voice sometime so that I may hear it myself? That would be quite the experience. ahem ahem
Anyone have anything else to drink this tickle is starting to annoy me?
I quickly examine myself – suddenly feeling ill.
Seijiro watches everyone dropping out of things early for the night and attributes it initially to just weariness from the recent bout of being overworked and the lack of rest. He sighs heavily, any idea of a night action preempted by those who go below early.
He listens to Flynn's tale, not the first time he's heard it told though. He leans back and contemplates... how lucky I am really to have been raised in a quiet backwater community of hunters and farmers. Sure there were dangers, but I never lost anyone close to me while I was young.
Suddenly for no reason he doubles over with a groan and collapses to the ground, moans softly. "By all the gods, what was that?" He pulls his hand away from his midsection where he had wrapped his arms around himself and looks at it as if were something foreign. Then he looks down at his belly and seems surprised.
He gets up slowly, as if expecting more pain, though he is able to rise with no problem... He looks at the others with a somewhat embarassed half-smile/half-smirk. "Don't mind me... just being ... melodramatic?" It seems to be more of a question than a statement, and he quickly pulls in on himself, sitting once more cross-legged on the ground, his harmonica held limply in one hand. He glances around at who else besides his shanghaied mates might have noticed, then quickly casts his eyes down again.
Those close to him might notice a deep scowl on his face as he turns his thoughts elsewhere, the frown lines between his eyes deep and his eyes liquid with ... tears?
Valeros gives the elf a smile. Besmara is but another traveler on the oceans of life. You misunderstand. It is the sea herself, daughter of Gozreh and sister to the Pirate Queen that I listen to. But she is so much more for she is truly eternal. Aroden showed that even a god can die but the sea is forever. She will live on long after you or me. Even when Gozreh and Besmara are forgotten, the sea will still be there whispering to those that listen.
Grinning as he works, Dhaavan simply speaks loudly to Flynn, Rain, Valeros and the group hanging about near-by. "I know what that's like, havin a strange relationship wit' yer gods'n' patrons. She never done me no kindness so I ain't got much real affection f'r the Black Lady, but I'm here for having tried to follow her direction."
"Then again, not all gods want affection. For some respect and fear is enough." His eyes darken at that last bit, but he quickly shakes it off and gets to work with his ink.
"Now i'd doubt that the sea even gives a damn about fear and respect. You fear 'er and respect 'er, or ye'r likely to die for it. not out o' malace, but just the way it is." Dhaavan adds at Valeros's comment.
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Valeros gives the elf a smile. Besmara is but another traveler on the oceans of life. You misunderstand. It is the sea herself, daughter of Gozreh and sister to the Pirate Queen that I listen to. But she is so much more for she is truly eternal. Aroden showed that even a god can die but the sea is forever. She will live on long after you or me. Even when Gozreh and Besmara are forgotten, the sea will still be there whispering to those that listen.
I sea, I am sorry for misunderstanding you. However I have never heard water talk either. That would be quite the feat as well. ahem ahem. Variel tries to smile to show that he is in jest but the tickle in his throat cuts it short.
There is nothing to apologize for. Some can hear her, some cannot. It is simply the way of things.
”Strange,” I muse loudly, my voice hard and edged.
I turn to Rain.
”Well, this is a rather odd predicament, lass,” I add with a very dry voice.
”Based on a cursory examination – it seems that I have some sort of fever contracted… I am not sure of its source, however.”
”While logic would suggest it came from the dire rats; this is nigh impossible. Such fever does come from them, true – but the onset of such fever; aye – they call it ”Filth Fever – and it is typical to effect a victim a day or so after the attack.”
I ponder a moment.
”But that doesn’t make sense to me. We fought with those rats, according to my notes, on the first of Arodus; and it is typical that such diseases manifest themselves in a few days – three is generally the latest in which such signs would appear – possibly four… but four is highly unlikely...”
”Even so, that attack more then six days away – and we are suddenly beset with fever now?”
”Huh! I do not know if it is bites from those rats – or something else. But if it was bites by them, we should have felt the effects days ago; that we have not makes me suspicious.”
Looking myself over, I pull up my kit, and determine that I shall attempt to Treat the symptoms of this disease.
While I consider my options regarding how best to treat the disease - I turn to Dhaavan.
"Dhaavan - you are said to be friendly with folk on this ship, eh? I have a few doses left in my healing kit - but soon it shall be empty. If you are able - can you get another set of doses from Grok?"
"Meanwhile - you should probably spread the word that if there was dire rats aboard; and they had signs of fever - then it may be our food or drink was infected - either by accident; or by intention."
"If it was intention - if in fact someone found it distasteful that some of us are dangerous and had desired to cause us harm - then it seems best to alert the officers you are most friendly with. They need to deal with that soon; if Plugg or one of his lackey's decided to poison us of a purpose - and gave us diseased grain - that disease could very well wipe out the entire crew - unless it is treated.
Then, while I consider the ease of the treatment of such a disease, I think a moment of Sko and Variel - both of who feel a bit ill.
It was likely they would need help too, soon.
Okay - so I read how "Treat Injury" works. If you succeed a Heal Check against the DC of the Disease - you can earn a competency bonus of +4 to your saving throw against the disease. However - to succeed at the disease "Filth Fever" I need to make two successful Fortitude Rolls. Does that mean I need to make 2 separate "Treat Injury" rolls, one for each Fortitude Roll?
Assuming I need to make 2 Heal Rolls - that would also mean I need to burn 2 doses - and it would take me 20 minutes, instead of 10.
Please let me know what's up on this account - and I'll go from there.
Sejiro: Dhaavan looks at the redhead strangely and asks "The hell's wrong with you, mate? ya sick too?"
Seijiro looks up at Dhaavan, tears brimming in his eyes, though he does his best to blink them back, a couple escape and he rubs them away quickly. "'m not sure, no but not sick... It.. it's my brother... my... well.. Hijiro... something's happened to him..."
He looks at his hands and shakes his head slowly. "Blood... so much blood." Though nothing is visible on his hands, he rubs them as if trying to clean them.
More angry then sick at this time, I do what I can to ease the damage to myself. The time has been nearly a half hour since my cursory diagnostic; cleaning my tools, and then moving on to treat the disease with what skills I have.
I glance fom Dhaavan to Jiro.
”Speak up, mate – you alright? Pox nor plague is death to everyone on board a ship – if it’s not nailed down hard and fast,” I add in a terse voice.
I turn to Dhaavan, my voice still tense.
”And you - you going to rustle me up another healing kit, or sit there and grin all night,” I growl at him.
Swinging myself onto my feat, I move with a purpose to the bunks that hold Sko and Variel.
”I’m going below and check on the other lads; I don’t want any more sickness on this rat’s nest.”
”And someone tell the officers that there was a sudden and mysterious disease that mysteriously cropped up in the past 24 hours. They may want to attend to it – if they’re going to press men aboard, that means they want live sailors, not a dead crew,” I add as a parting shot as I head down the hatch.
Seijiro looks up at Dhaavan, tears brimming in his eyes, though he does his best to blink them back, a couple escape and he rubs them away quickly. "'m not sure, no but not sick... It.. it's my brother... my... well.. Hijiro... something's happened to him..."
He looks at his hands and shakes his head slowly. "Blood... so much blood." Though nothing is visible on his hands, he rubs them as if trying to clean them.
I pause in my quickened pace to below decks, listening to Jiro's words.
He sounds strange, as if his mind is warped and feverish.
I pause by him, crouching down and hold his wrist gently, feeling for his pulse, and looking into his eyes.
"Oye - mate, you alright..." I ask him gently.
Seijiro's pulse is racing as if he were flooded with adrenaline.
"I... I'm fine, Flynn-san. It's my li.. my brother, Hijiro... he's hurt.. maybe dying... please, go tend to the sick, I'll be fine...but thank you for asking." He blinks back more tears.. and wipes some away with the back of one hand. "I... think I'd know if he were dead though... so not all is lost... oh, please Hijiro.. don't die on me."
Feeling his pulse, and sensing it is strong - as well as no general cloudiness in his eyes - I let out a sigh of relief.
"Gods be praised then - your brother will be fine," I add softly but emphatically, clapping him on his shoulder "and so will you."
"If you wish - come below with me, help me assist the other two below. Both the elf and the shapeshifter said they were ill - if that is true - I wish to see what I can do for their illnesses.
"If anyone else can offer help - I will be thankful for it," I add with a frustrated tone, sensing a long night ahead of me; not easily dealt with because of the gods cursed rum.
Seijiro rises slowly... and looks between Dhaavan and Flynn. He reaches into what look like bandages around his midsection under his shirt and pulls out a small leather 'pouch', obviously filled with something. He hands it to Dhaavan. "I heard what you were saying about acquiring doses for your kit, Flynn-san. Dhaavan-san, see what you can get for this in trade with Grok - maybe some doses for Flynn's healer's kit. I have no need for it. But if there's any extra gold in the trade, I wouldn't mind a bit of it back."
"I'll come below with you and help how I can... I have no skill with healing, but if you tell me what to do, I'll try. At least I'm not sick, so I will do what I can for those who are... and Daikitsu willing, Hijiro will be fine." He wipes the last of the tears from his eyes as if having some resolve to take action has helped him focus on something other than his own pain.
It was turning out to be a strange night. It had been refreshing to hear Valeros talk of the sea and how he perceived her to speak. Then Flynn, Variel and Sko all took with pains and coughs and then Jiro doubled over due to a psychic link between he and his twin brother.
Rain looked upon Jiro with empathy at his predicament -- being separated from a brother at his time of need. Softly, she says, "I am sorry Jiro that this has come to pass. I have no sibling as you know, yet I aggrieved by this turn of events." She reaches out and gently, sympathetically pats the young male's arm. "I pray that your brother survives."
Seeing her mates taken by fits of coughing and various pains, she moves to Flynn and offers any assistance.
"Flynn, I have some ability in healing. If I can be of use, I should like to try. If you would rather I went to speak with the officers then that is what I will do." Rain was anxious about finding the officers and alerting them to the situation in case it backfired on her companions. And if she came across Plugg and she was alone ... She did not want to think on it.
"I assure you that I am not feeling ill nor do I have a cough like the others."
"Thanks, Jiro - I appreciate it," I say, a touch of frustration with this little complication.
Hearing Rain's comments, I nod at her words.
"Come on, lass - I'll be happy to take your help too, on this little venture," I say, flinging myself down the hatch to Sko and Variel.
I pause a moment, turning an appraising eye on Rain, letting it roam over her, checking for any tell-tale signs of disease. Seeing none, I nod a little.
"Aye... ever since I laid eyes on you, I always thought you looked hale and fair; sure as sunrise," I add with a roguish grin.
"Meantime - as for doing some chatting with the officers, and trying to rustle up more herbs and poultices? Nah - I kind of reckoned that our mate Dhaavan, seeing how chatty he is - what with slapping down tattoo ink on all and sundry - would be doing all the chatting," I add.
"While I'm at it - we got some disease that cropped up nearly five or six days after a bite with some rats; and that disease takes about two or three days to crop up at most... Now, we tracked them rats to the cargo - which was chewed up grain sacks. Maybe we got the disease festering in our food supply - or... maybe someone had a bit of the rats, and tried to use the disease like poison on them that they trust less then others, eh?"
"Maybe it wasn't an accident that we got sick, that's what I'm saying - maybe lads like Plugg are more crafty then I reckoned, that's all."
"Anyhow - thank you kindly for your help; I'll lay too with Sko first - as soon as we see if Dhaavan can rustle up more herbs; then Variel next. Otherwise - I try this cold, and I'm not too eager for trying it without herbs, if I can help it... at least, not yet."