Daidalos directs his cacodaemon to retrieve the fallen triton's soul and give it to him, before allowing the formed ball of quintessence to dissipate back to whence it came. Seeing his companions are already searching the fallen triton, Daidalos quickly swaps out and casts Endure Elements before returning to sleep.
Luke stays in bat form and lands on the dead triton's body, and walks up and down his back a few times, almost as if marking territory (without actually MARKING territory if you get my meaning), before flitting back up to Price's shoulder. He 'meeps' softly as he grooms himself while sitting there.
"Not a dull moment to be had, isn't there," Affyria quips sarcastically as she regards the dead triton with disdain.
Before Daidalos completes his spell, the fallen man shudders, eyes flickering open with a start, and he half-burbles through blood filled lungs, ”The sun has seen you and the son will be your doom.” He gasps, then collapses one last time, and a death rattle escapes his lips. The cacodaemon then completes its charge, converting the man’s soul into a gem and handing the same to Daidalos.
Should you care to search him, you find a beautifully crafted and perfectly balanced trident, breastplate crafted from seashells (as bone), a sea shell and pearl holy symbol of Mitra and a potion.
Content that he has finally started his soul collection, Daidalos slips the golden gem into his spell pouch. "If the sun shall be our doom, you made a mistake attacking us at night," he says, mostly to himself.
Once that precious soul is tucked away securely, he examines the new potion, eyes glowing a fiendish red as he analyzes its aura.
Whether successful or not, he clambers back to bed, hoping for a restful sleep this time.
Daedalos finds it is a potion of cure moderate wounds.
Kargeld huffs and grumbles after the display of summoning a daemon. "Tisn't natural this. But... it's done. Alright, you laggards, get him patched up, secure the bolts from the hull, swab the deck, toss the body, light the lantern and make ready to sail." He shakes his head in consternation.
Daidalos looks up warily, then, deciding it didn't matter, continues trying to sleep.
With the battle over, the adrenaline coursing through Timo's veins makes him unable to sleep. After pacing the deck, Timo takes up position at the bow of the ship keeping watch for anything in the dark.
Not knowing whether or not to expect trouble, Ineluki finds someplace to hang out in bat form... hanging literally... where he can have an elevated viewpoint... he alternately dozes and keeps watch...
+2 at night...
He doesn't seem very attentive.
Kargeld is soon sailing the Frosthamar our of the bay and the rest of the night passes uneventfully, as do most of the following days. At one point, you encounter some Yutak whalers in their sea-faring canoes but they are looking only to trade. You round Seal Isle and Kargeld makes some noises about going ashore for some fresh water, but you know the supplies are fine and Kargeld has some ulterior motive, likely the lucrative skins of the creatures the island is named after.
Dissuaded from his venture, Kargeld presses on and you are soon turning back into Talingarde and sailing southwest and upstream against a river. Progress is slower but it’s already getting warmer as you are increasingly isolated from the freezing ocean winds.
After several more days, you see an encampment on the east bank of the river. Tattered crimson banners wave and flap in the wind around a ramshackle wooden stockade. The encampment is massive and sprawling, with all manner of goblinoids and giants. Kargeld sails up to a makeshift dock and orders his crew to tie her down. When he sees some bugbears at the end of the dock eyeing his ship, he appends the order to keep the knots ready to be yanked free in a hurry.
”Yer first stop. Best make yer way down there and ensure they don’t skin us all alive before we can unload those crates.”
Timo steps off the ship, back wearing his armor. "Oh to be on dry land once again. It is a shame I'll have to return to that boat soon. Now on to these beasts who are hopefully as accommodating as our liege believes"
To the bugbears on the end of the dock he turns and calls out "Hail! We come bearing gifts for Chief Sakkarot from our mutual benefactor."
On the morning before they arrive at the bugbear camp, Daidalos memorizes a set of spells more suited to diplomacy than fighting, hoping that it wouldn't come to blows.
When Timo begins talking with the bugbears, Daidalos supports him, "Where is your chief? We wish to speak to him. We are your allies."
By the end of the journey, Grumblejack cannot contain his misery. The last few days heading up the coast were particularly brutal with the ogre's massive size leaving him particularly exposed to the cold and wind with little shelter. More than a few times, you caught him eyeing the crew of the Frosthamar hungrily, gripping his sword, trying to find some outlet for his anger and frustration. Yet, remarkably for one of his kin, he held himself together and never so much as raised a fist.
Now that dry land is within reach, he practically danced on the deck of the ship, donned his armor and slung the sword across his massive back. He leaves the diplomacy to the "little 'uns" but moves to stand behind Timo and Daidalos, putting his hulking mass to as much intimidating effect as possible.
Ineluki takes human form again when they are nearing their first destination... While he's no master diplomat, he figures he'll make a better and more visible presence as a humanoid. Without his fur, he shivers in the cold a bit.
Four of the bugbears approach, javelins slung across their backs and casually swinging great clubs at their sides. Further behind them, you see other bugbears milling about, watching with curiosity, while fur-clad goblins scamper about and even a few polar bears walk by... upright on their hind legs.
The approaching bugbears chuckle amongst themselves, the sound like gravel coming down a hill. "You have gifts, yes? That's nice. We will take them. You bring food, too? We're hungry, you know. Not much to eat up here." Another chortles, "Not fresh, anyway..."
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While astoundingly oblivious to what the bugbears obviously want, Daidalos still doesn't like the tone they take. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they're burning with unholy fire, a crown of fiendish flames manifesting on his head.
"Let me get one thing straight: you do not want to waste our time. Your chief will be very displeased to find the way you are treating us. What's your name, soldier, so that I can report exactly who was being so disrespectful to us when we meet your chieftain."
Seeing the hunger in the beasts eyes and their intent, Timo appears to casually rest his hand on the hilt of his blade and narrows his own eyes at the four approaching beasts.
"You're welcome to try us if you wish, Asmodeus knows I could use a good fight. But then the four of you will be dead and we'll have to find someone else to lead us to Sakkarot. So why don't you be good little creatures and takes us to your chief before I find myself with a new floor rug?"
A low rumble reverberates in Grumblejack's chest as his eyes narrow in response to the smaller bugbears' implications. He pops his neck to the left and the right, then flexes his arms as he angles himself for a clear path to the bugbears.
In a relatively quiet voice, clearly directed towards the Ninth Knot but loud enough it could be heard by a keen-eared bugbear, he says, "Let Grumblejack slay them for you. I need to stretch... and I'm hungry, too." While staring at the bugbears, he says the last part a bit louder.
Affyria, glad to be off the damnable ship, glares at the bugbears.
"You know, I've been on that damnable boat longer than I care to remember, and I am really not in the mood for your antics here. I have a craving for a decent meal and perhaps some drink, as well as a place to rest my head without my innards getting knocked about. Consider our gift to you creatures your continued existence, and either be on your way, or lead us to Sakkarot Fire-Axe."
The bugbears pause slightly at Daidalos's display -- magic is certainly something to be feared -- but the manling ultimately leaves them unimpressed. Yet when the antipaladin and cleric of Asmodeus sep forth without an ounce of fear, backed by the menacing of the massive and well-armed ogre, one bugbear blanches. Then another. Then they've all stopped. The combined display clearly has an effect.
They exchange nervous glances then look over their shoulders to see their erstwhile comrades sniggering and laughing.
"Bah! The lead bugbear snarls. "You'd taste of gristle anyway, scrawny things."
As they start to turn and walk away, the crowd of assembled goblinoids and giants parts to make a path, not for them but for someone approaching from deeper in the camp. Emerging from the crowd is a particularly massive, black-furred bugbear. He is clad in an iron breastplate festooned with wicked spikes, the whole thing blackened by some flame or alchemical process. He wields a flaming axe at his side.
Seeing him, your would-be harassers suddenly steel their spines and turn around once more to face you, grinning in wicked anticipation... right until the black-furred beast roughly grabs one by the shoulder and tosses him back onto solid land like a rag doll.
The display brings little relief, however, as he moves partway down the dock towards you before pointing at you with his axe and calling in flawless, unaccented Common, "Who sent you? Speak truthfully now or perish in flame."
Behind him, the crowd of goblins, bugbears, hobgoblins, "polar bears" and giants has gone quiet, watching the scene intently.
From behind, you here Kargeld whispering at his crew, "Stop tying that down. Stop it!"
Daidalos allows his crown to extinguish, but leaves just a trace of fire in his eyes to linger for just a little before those, too, wink out. When the new bugbear-presumably Sakkarot- approaches, Daidalos gives a half-bow, inclining his head in respect, "Greetings, Fire-Axe. Our... mutual benefactor has sent us with weapons for you and your men. We are the Ninth Knot, and I do not know how much more you wish for us to say in the open. Perhaps we could retire to someplace more private for a discussion?" As he speaks, Daidalos concentrates, and when he straightens up, an (illusionary) embroidered silver pentagram has appeared on his left shoulder.
Ineluki watches impassively as his companions seem to have well in hand with the initial group of bugbears... When Sakkarot comes forth, or who he presumes is Sakkarot, he lofts a brow as he appraises the fellow's self-assurance and aura of authority. He doesn't speak though, as Daidalos has said essentially what he himself would have regarding meeting further in private. Rather than nod like a simpleton though, he just listens in silence.
Kiffex, invisible and unseen, flitters over to the lead bugbear as they advance, and whispers to him, "Actually, she tastes like lusciously sweet spiced chicken, but she's all mine."
When they are brought before Sakkarot, Affyria offers him a sweet smile. "As my colleague has mentioned, we were sent here by a lovely chap who I'm sure you're familiar with. We are merely here to aid you in your endeavors for the time being. You have amassed quite the army here, which tells me that you must be a formidable person. It's not often you see this amount of your kin, and even giants and goblins, willingly ally themselves under a common cause."
"Now, talking about a common cause, perhaps we should speak about the actual mission that brings us here, since I believe that we have an important role to play in the upcoming events that place us both at this particular time and place."
As the humanoids talk, the gathered throng behind this dark-furred bugbear seem to expect a certain -- bloody -- outcome, gearing up to storm the boat and eat the occupants.
But when Daidalos and Affyria speak, the apparent leader smiles a toothy grin as he lowers his axe. "Then you are welcome here."
He turns to the somewhat stunned throng and pronounces in a booming voice, "These humans are my guests. I will deal with anyone who harms them. They are our allies!" The fact that some of you might be other than human is irrelevant in this gathering of goblinoids.
He turns towards you once more then walks down past the you and to the boat. Grumblejack's eyes flicker between him and you, uncertain as to how to act.
With a single-clawed hand, he rips open one of the crates revealing the finely made axes within. He tosses one across the deck to one of the other bugbears. "Behold! They bring us STEEL!"
This earns you a terrifying chorus of growls and cheers from the monstrous assembly, resonating in your very bones. As the throng celebrates, the bugbear speaks to you such that no others can hear over the roar. "You are welcome here as my guests, and you are right. I am Sakkarot Fire-Axe. You must be the Ninth. I am the First. Come. You must be exhausted and famished after your voyage. Let's get you properly fed while they disperse the Cardinal's gifts."
He starts to hold an open hand towards the encampment, then pauses with a glance back towards the ship. In a sotto voce, he adds, "Is the furry human and his clan to join us?" Though a slightly peculiar choice of phrase, it is clear he refers to bearded-Kargeld and the sailors.
Must be the ninth? But I just told him we are... Hmmm... Must have a lot going through his head. Maybe that'll be useful for learning more about Thorn.
Daidalos shakes his head, speaking quietly to the bugbear out of earshot from the crew, "No. He and his men are mercenaries. We're instructed to kill them once we reach our destination- they have proven unreliable and greedy, and know far too much. However, if it's not too much of a problem, might we leave the ogre with you? Our understanding of the situation is that it requires stealth and tactical precision. While Grumblejack is strong, he is also quite noticeable. He is a loyal and obedient ally, I'm sure you will find use for him, though we would like to retrieve him once the Wall has fallen."
As they walk away Daidalos inclines his head to the bugbear in thanks, "Many thanks to your hospitality, Master Fire-Axe. Some good food would be quite welcome."
A subtle grin plays about Affyria's lips as she walks along Sakkarot. "I believe some of your followers mentioned feeling peckish. As far as I'm concerned, they can help themselves to those."
"Ah... Sakkarot's eyes gleam with a silent chuckle. He glances back at the boat, ponders, then says, "Well, this is not your final destination, so unless you know how to sail a boat..." He arches a brow in question.
As to the ogre, he nods to Daidalos, then walks over to Grumblejack. Though the ogre is nearly half-again as tall and probably three or four times the bugbear's weight, the bugbear doesn't shy away from the massive ogre. An uneasy silence draws on when Grumblejack starts to rumble, his sword hand twitching, and Sakkarot puts the flat of his hand to the ogre's chest in a gesture of camaraderie. "You shall be my attache to the Ninth until we are able to reunite at Balentyne. You shall have your choice of meals and answer to none but me while in the company of my legion. Are you amenable to this arrangement?"
The ogre stares at the bugbear in some confusion, glances at you for approval and, sensing it, then nods to Sakkarot. "If the little 'uns say 'yes', then Grumblejack okay being at... ata... what you said."
The bugbear smiles, claps Grumblejack's meaty arm several times, then says, "Excellent. Your first duty will be to accompany us to our feast. Come, all of you..."
As he leads you up the dock, he growls in goblin at some of the bugbears:
He takes you to a large tent crafted from countless, thick hides. Wisps of smoke come through a vent at the top and a pair of armored bugbears guards the entrance. They open the tent for him and he enters, growling an order at them. Following him inside you see blankets for floor cover, pillows for seating, a low table, and a make-shift throne from which he presumably holds court with his minions.
He begins by pouring tankards of ale for you. "It's of poor quality, I know, but it's the best I have available north of the Wall." A short while later, you are welcomed to a feast in your honor. All manner of beast and goblin fight one another in a savage display of games and jousting. The highlight of the party is when a great shaggy dire boar is brought in shackles before you and Sakkarot. The chieftain beheads the beast with a single, savage swipe of his axe, and it is then spit-roasted in a great open pit. Through it all, you sit with Sakkarot at his table, a front row seat to the savagery.
Through it all, you are able to converse with him in relative privacy, his lieutenants and underlings keeping a respectful distance. At one point, he says, "You must forgive the lack of sophistication here. I make due with what I have, and this lot demands displays such as this. They will not follow one who does not display strength and allows them to revel in it. To be honest, I find it all a bit tedious, but..." He shrugs as the fights play out before you.
Affyria's face falls at the mention of another sea voyage. "Seriously? Can't we just walk there," she grumbles.
During the conversation with Sakkarot, Affyria remarks, "I hope you don't take offense to this, but you are extremely well-spoken for a bugbear. How have you come to be in the position you currently hold?"
Sakkarot laughs at Affyria's displeasure, though it is the laugh of shared misery rather than mocking. "Oh, I'm afraid so, though the journey across Lake Tarik should be relatively placid and warm compared to your sail up the coast."
As to Sakkarot's diction, his lips pull back in a toothy smile and he waves a hand in a friendly gesture. "No offense is taken. It is a welcome change to be with those who can string together more than three words in a sentence and I can see how it may be... surprising, given my kin's reputation, well-earned as it is.
"This lot respects strength, and you do not become a chieftain of even a small tribe without being able to slay your rivals. But to lead a larger gathering, to combine them into this and keep them from each others' throats, that takes the guile and intelligence they don't appreciate, but Thorn does.
"So, to answer your question... a mix of strength and guile along with certain gifts bestowed by our benefactor."
"So you have the favor of Master Thorn and it's not hard to see why. You obviously have the courage, strength and cunning to lead such forces as you have effectively, and Thorn strongly values skill along with the right attitudes... Do you mind if I ask how you met him?"
Sakkarot watches the festivities play out before your shared table as he answers, "Nothing too exciting, I'm afraid. I met him here in the North. I'm not sure precisely what he was doing up here, but it was... unusual, to say the least, to find a human traveling the wastes alone.
"It became clear he had no need to worry about any of the threats the land could pose to him and, for reasons I still do not understand, he thought I could be of service to him. At the time, I was tribeless and likely to die a quiet death after a forgotten life."
A clawed finger taps at the table, lost in a reverie, before he shrugs and shakes himself out of it. He casts a quick glance around to ensure no hangers-on are within earshot, then resumes speaking.
"Those are times past. Let me ask a question of you all, if I may. Tomorrow you set sail for Balentyne. Your actions will set in motion a cascade of events, the first of which will be my horde descending upon the humans and slaughtering them to the last, or near enough. You are traitors to your own kind. You must know that. Yet, I see no regret in your eyes. Tell me, how can this be?"
At the feast, Daidalos takes and mutters a quick incantation to his goblet, transforming it into magical wine. Taking a sip, his mind clears and he turns to Sakkarot.
"I feel no regret for their fate because they never cared for mine. Why should I give more thought to them than they ever did for me? I wish for vengeance upon their unjust system, and for us to rise superior to those who thought they could control us. We could make this the perfect society, everyone playing their part, and with us at the top. What could be better? What of you? What has led you to an alliance with Thorn and the master? What sort of things have you planned with him?"
"They are not my kind, neither by blood or by belief. I have no remorse over whatever fate is dealt to them, and I relish the chance to be a part of delivering that fate to them. Their kind would have done the same to me, and tried... having escaped their clutches, I have cause to want to see them fall."
Timo enjoys the festivities, taking relish in the feast and displays of combat. You can see a part of him would take pleasure in testing his skills against the better fighters. As their host asks why they would turn on their kind, Timo waits for the others to respond before giving his response.
"As the others of my party have stated, they may look of us, but they are not us. My supposed family treated me as nothing better than a slave and hid my heritage from me. I would like nothing more than to watch them and THEIR heritage burn."
Sakkarot listens to each of you intently with an apparent thoughtfulness that is, as with much of him, at odds with his brutish appearance. When those of you who seem to wish to speak have done so, he nods in acceptance. "I understand, I think. Revenge."
He considers Daedalos's question for only the briefest of moments before responding, "Not revenge, though I betray my people, too, as I lead them to their slaughter. Only I am the first knot, not them." He gestures towards the horde. "We will kill the humans at Balentyne, raid the lands, destroy some cities, but at some point, Thorn will have an army of his own come north and I am to let the horde perish, giving Thorn a great victory."
He shrugs. "He saved my life. When he found me, I was dying in the wastes. He saved my life, and in return I have pledged it to him, and Asmodeus." He stands, releases a couple of straps from his breastplate, and shows you the symbol of Asmodeus branded into his chest. "It is a bargain I do not regret. I will leave a mark on this land unlike any of my kind before me. As to what comes next..."
His voice trails off then he just restraps the breastplate and sits, lifting his tankard for a drink.
"Well, we will see. Do you know more of Thorn's plans that you can share? What brought you into his service?"
Affyria appears to think for a moment. "We are starting the process of installing a new regime in Talingarde. It's going to be lengthy and arduous, and yes, many folk will perish. But there are certain things in this world that require sacrifice; even though the people of Talingarde themselves don't see it, they are being opressed. You speak of betraying my own kind, but my kind─the plane-touched─have been persecuted and looked at with disdain for decades. The church of Mitra poses itself as just and righteous, but it is rotting from within. Once we are done with it, we will craft a new kingdom, in honor of the Prince of Devils. And His time will come, eventually."
She lifts her glass, "Hail Asmodeus."
In answer to Sakkarot's question, Affyria says, "We know very little, actually. He was careful to not reveal much of his plan, besides what you reiterated. He recruited us after we escaped from prison, with some added help from his devil wench." Upon mentioning this, she seems to remember something, and turns to Daidalos. "Oh right, Daidalos, You expressed an interest in Tiadora. I have it on good authority that she is a gylou. Quite powerful and dangerous, I've come to understand, so we should watch ourselves around her."
Asturu has been remarkably quiet during all of this. Like an exchange student taking in the exoticness of the situation he has studied and continues to study all that's going on, making mental notes as he goes. From what he's seeing so far, his writings and philosophical ponderings seem to be on the mark: might makes right, but hammer away with impunity and that what you're holding will break, leaving you with nothing.
Another observation of his that this bugbear perhaps is the result of some reincarnation or transmutation magic gone wrong. It must be that or a God intervened to bestow this monstrous man with intellect and reason otherwise unknown to his kind. Whatever it is, Thorn must know of it so according to Asturu, it ain't his problem.
As you talk, the latest fight is a pair of bugbears squaring off against one of the awakened polar bears. The bugbears try to flank the beast, but it manages to move faster than expected. The bugbears charge at the same time when one is sent flying backwards when the bear's back leg snaps out and slams into his chest, while the bear pivots on his other leg to move out of the second bugbear's path. As the second stops and turns, the bear brings a massive, white claw down across his face, sending a spray of blood across the fighting pit and eliciting screams and hoots from the crowd.
For his part, Sakkarot joins in the cheering, playing his role as chieftain and enjoying the entertainment with his troops. As the fight continues to play out, he turns his attention back to the conversation.
"Tiadora is not one to be trifled with. I see her occasionally when she delivers messages and instructions from Thorn." He pauses, then adds, "I wondered if she was something more than she appeared, but a handmaiden... I had not expected that. Interesting." He scratches his chin with a clawed finger, pondering.
At the end of the table, sitting on a massive wooden log brought in just for him, Grumblejack contentedly gorges himself on the roasted boar and any other meat that is brought near him. He listens to as much of the conversation as he can follow.
"Well," Sakkarot declares. "Tomorrow you must depart this camp. It will never be truly safe for you here. Over the next week, more tribes will rally to my banner. I will promise them blood and give them steel. Then at last I will be ready to march. A week after that – I will be poised to strike. I will move my horde to the valley just north of Balentyne. There we will wait for your signal. Fire this rocket into the air. Within the hour, we will attack. Make sure that the way is ready.
"After we gather, my horde will be idle and start to grow anxious. I can hold them together for another two weeks. After that, I expect desertions and squabbling. Get your work done before then. You have one month to infiltrate and destroy Balentyne."
Sakkarot hands to Timo a single carefully wrapped signal rocket. Suddenly the bugbear warlord gets very serious and stern. He stares straight into your eyes.
"Can you do this? In one month can you break the Watch Wall?"
Daidalos wrinkles his brow at the news, "A Handmaiden? But I was almost certain that wasn't a possibility. They have almost no true mental control.... How did you learn this?"
Daidalos nods appropriately to Sakkarot's questions, but says nothing, as he gets the feeling that the chieftain is directing his questions most at Timo.
Affyria merely offers a smile at Daidalos' inquiry, and a rather smug one at that. "A little devil whispered it in my ear."
Peering over her glass, her eyes linger momentarily at Grumblejack.
"Don't worry, Sakkarot. The Ninth Knot will avail themselves of their task. Be ready for our signal, and we will throw open the gates to the Watch Wall, and with it, the way to a new regime."
Sakkarot nods to Affyria, accepting her assurances and authority as a priestess of Asmodeus. "As you say, mistress."
He stands to his full height, tankard in one hand while the other brings the pommel of his axe crashing down on the table. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. A rapt silence washes over the assembled horde as the fights come to a halt and all attention turns to the warchief.
With their attention on him, Sakkarot turns his attention to you. "Today, you have brought us steel. Tomorrow, you set sail for the Watch Wall. In a month, you will open the gates and Balentyne shall fall to our axes. You are the best. You will accomplish this deed. And together our names will become legend. To victory!"
He holds the axe aloft as he drinks from his tankard. The horde unleashes a chorus of monstrous roars. Weapons and shields are bashed together. The feet of giants pound into the ground. The cacophony echoes through the hills and reverberates in your bones. Grumblejack joins the chorus, slamming his meaty fists into the table like a drum.
As he lowers the tankard, barely audible over the thunderous roar of the horde, he adds, "Hail Asmodeus!"
== Fast Forward to the next morning ==
Early the next morning while the sun is still beneath the horizon, you bid farewell to Grumblejack and find Odenkirk more than ready to leave. The captain looks half-exhausted and his eyes are bloodshot, as are a few members of his crew. He grumbles, "These beasts been eyein' us all night. Don't trust 'em. Good thing you're back; we was gettin' ready to sail without you. I'm not getting paid enough for all this, and surely not to be a bugbear's breakfast."
Lines are cast off and Odenkirk sails the Frosthamar across a mist-shrouded Lake Tarik. As you approach the southern shore, Odenkirk gesture towards the east. "Just a couple hours that way is Balentyne and the town of Aldencross."
Knowing there would be a conflict the next day as they silenced Captain Odenkirk, Daidalos makes some preparations the night before, trapping a piece of paper with a magical trap. He also, after protecting himself from the cold, casts a small spell of fortune on Timo, to help guide his blade in combat.
In the morning, Daidalos rolls his eyes at Odenkirk, "Please. You're getting paid plenty. In any case, just stick close to us," Daidalos teases, "And we'll save you from the big bad bugbears." He smiles, baring his teeth in a manner reminiscent of a shark.
Odenkirk mostly ignores Daidalos's jibe but, throughout the voyage, seems to always find the roughest waves or have to suddenly jolt the Forsthamar's rudder when Daidalos gets up to move around. "Sorry, lad... hard to see in this mist," is his explanation if challenged on it.
Just before dawn, you make it to the far shore. Several of his sailors disembark along with Odenkirk, one holding a rope to keep the Frosthamar "anchored" at the shore while a pair of sailors do the same with a pair of oars stuck in the mud.
"Alright... that's the end of this. Head that away for a couple hours and you'll find yourself where you need to be, but be covering signs of your affiliations, or the 'good folk' up here will put an end to you right quick. Now then... the journey went smoothly enough, eh? Safe delivery and all. Must be worth a couple hundred gold to you, at least, eh?"
While on the ship, Daidalos discusses his plan with his fellow villains, letting them know what he hopes to do, and conspiring the most efficient way to be rid of the captain.
Daidalos pretends to think for a moment, then pretends to realize something. "Ah, of course. Could you gather your men around? I do, in fact, have something they might like." He pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it, looking it over, "Yeah. This is the one. Could you gather your men around, if you wouldn't mind?"
Once all of the crew is close-ish, Daidalos unfolds the paper and clears his throat, starting to read, "Dear Captain Odenkirk and crew-" then breaks down into a coughing fit, "Oh, I'm sorry captain. Here, would you mind reading this to your crew?" Daidalos steps away, overcome by another coughing fit. While his back is turned, he starts summoning the barest hints of magic, preparing to unleash it upon the Captain and crew as soon as his trap went off. He grins a wicked grin as he looks at the rest of the Knot.
'Dear Captain Odenkirk and crew,
You have been great assets to the cause, and it has come to my attention that you sincerely appreciate being awarded according to your service, and your favored form of award is money. As such, in the interest of strengthening the Church of Asmodeus, I would like to thank you in a manner suitable to your services provided as our allies in this precarious situation. However, if I may offer a word of advice: devils never appreciate a contract being altered forcefully, and are quite devious in their revenge. With that said, I prepared Incendiary Runes yesterday. Enjoy the reward for greed, captain.
-Δ'
Read this? Gods above, he's ever the one for grand gestures and dramatic escapades. Uneasy about what he knows to come next, Asturu waits for the captain to read whatever Daidalos has written up.
Affyria is glad to be off the ship, her displeasure clear on her face. At Odenkirk's remark, she glares at him stonefaced, then glances at Daidalos. "Allow us to express our... appreciation of the journey as a whole."
"I thought it was a fine journey, a little bumpy here and there, but otherwise, it went well.. thank you captain." Ineluki says before the note is offered to him... he stands aside and away from the captain, when he speaks, then disembarks, ready to target the captain with a sonic blast, making sure he has a clear los to the man.