Hauling a great back full of food and supplies and clad in his shiny new armour, Khalaban strode onto the deck before looking over at the young ginger man approaching with vague curiosity.
Bertrand boards the ship and appraises it with an arched eyebrow. “Charmingly rustic. I like it.” He looks back at Galen. “Ah! Up for a sampling of adventure, are we?”
Adriana looks at Galen with a smile,"So are you ready for a adventurous trip to Absalom?"
Galen fixes his leathers as he catches up with the team and pats the club on his belt.
"I think I'm ready to go. Gotta take the ferry to Tamran and then catch a ship to the city, right?"
A little ways up the path to the ship, a familiar kitling rounds a corner and comes into view, moving very slowly as she carries a tray holding what is, unmistakably, a very impressive sculpture. A chiffon cake body stands on caramel legs, a split croissant forming its head as nine tails of tuille arch out from the back, each dipped in a white buttercream icing.
...She's moving very slowly with it.
Adriana says,"Yes." but her focus is on Vixie and says a prayer to Calistria that the 'halfsune...or kitling?' Does not trip...
Khalaban waved cheerfully to the newcomer, and watched as Vixie slowly brought desert onboard.
Max sees the cake... that's probably as big as they are... and boggles, uncertain if they should go to try and help Vixie or help by *staying out of the way*.
"Eh?" The dwarven captain stares at the large cake slowly making its way up to her vessel's deck. "What's this now?"
It takes a good while, but the kitling is, thankfully, somewhat used to pastry delivery by now, and doesn’t accidentally tip the cake onto the bank. It does take a good, long while though, and it’s even more impressive up-close; Sayuki and Kasumi clearly put a lot of effort into it. This would explain why the shop closed up the previous day.
”M-my mamas said th-this would b-be a good l-luck charm! Th-they said that the c-cake has k-kitsune magic inside, a-and anyone who eats it is s-sure to come b-back home s-safe.
...w-where do you w-want me to p-put it down?”
Khalaban looked at the captain. "The Galley?"
The captain nods at a door next to the large, muscular man. "Erak can help you with that. Galley's through there."
The large, muscular man eyes the cake with interest (and a bit of apprehension).
Vixie offers a quick nod, then follows Erak into the galley, setting it on the most viable-looking surface before hurrying back out to the deck.
"I-is everyone ready?" she asks, looking about to make sure everyone is present.
Khalaban nodded. "I think so, yes."
Bertrand considers Vixie's cake. "Fine piece of work! May it expand our good fortune and not our waistlines." He nods. "Tally ho and all that, then!"
Without further ado, the captain weighs anchor and shoves off from the dock, letting the current begin to take the barge down the river...
------------
A couple of days pass as the current carries the River Cutter downstream. The good-luck cake sees several slices taken from it over the course of the journey--Erak in particular seems quite protective of it.
The forest surrounding the river gets thicker the further down the river the barge goes, obscuring the sky above. The wind gradually turns colder and colder as the days go on. As night falls on the second day, a strange, pale mist begins to rise from the water...
"I don't like this." The captain cringes and keeps her barge pole ready.
Vixie, having happily taken one of the tails for herself and wrapped a second tail-- as well as the croissant head-- in a protective towel ("I'm s-saving it for M-Miss Shyla," she explains), happens to be snoozing in a hammock below deck in preparation of the night watch.
Frowning, Khalaban tilted his head. "Hmmm? Oh, I'm sorry madam Vixie, I wasn't listening well. I could have sworn I heard...something...cackling. Not that close, or very quiet." The Ragebred looked around, breathing deeply to see if he could Scent anything his eyes might miss.
Adriana seems to listen for a second,"I did not hear anything? Though mist plays with sound as well as sight..."
Adriana focus does shift away from some of the prettier sailors to the outside the boat.
Bertrand doesn't hear the sound but cautiously pulls out his wand of Ear-Piercing Scream. "Cackling, hm? I don't trust anything that's happy on a gloomy day like this one."
The mist rapidly engulfs the barge as it moves down the river, and soon visibility is cut down to barely a few feet beyond the bow. The captain grimaces and starts poking ahead of the bow with her barge pole...
...and as she does so, a dark shape looms off the port bow of the barge!
"Who dares trespass upon my waterway?!" An elderly, shrill voice pierces the mist. "More foolish worshipers of a false god, no doubt. I suppose I should have expected no better--fanatics are QUITE insistent on throwing themselves into certain doom for no reward."
Khalaban considered this for a moment as he approached the ships prow. "No, I'm quite certain that Cayden Cailean is real. Busy, perhaps, but real." He glanced at the Captain. "I assume you had no idea about this, and this was not an issue on previous trips?"
"Eh?"
The shape pauses. The other sailors recoil from the mist, leaving Khalaban (and anyone else with him) on their own.
"Cayden? Oh, heavens above, no. At least HE knows how to have a good time. I speak of the weaselly, bony little cultists in the iron masks."
"Ugh. Now, I'm wondering why I called the bloody mists forth. Can't see a thing... who are ye all, then?"
Bertrand puts his wand away. "Adventurers from Kassen. And it rather sounds as though we share a common enemy. We seek the cult of Razmir; they seem to have walked off with something that doesn't belong to them."
The shape pauses again. "Oh? You do, do you?"
"Good. Seeking to extort tribute from ME, of all people. Hmph. People used to have more RESPECT for their elders, back in my day. Especially ones who claim dominion over waterways. At least, when the mood strikes them." The shrill voice rambles.
"But, there is still the matter of tribute. A toll, if you will. You know what those are, yes? Tolls? Fees of passage and whatnot? Eh? Eh?"
The other sailors on the barge are not daring to make a sound.
"That would depend on the tribute you need," Khalaban replied. "A good meal is easy. My eyes somewhat less so."
"A meal? Well, I am still feeling rather peckish..." The shrill voice turned rather conversational. "The cultists barely had any good meat on their bones. Hmph. I don't think their cult feeds their rank-and-file much of anything."
It is at this moment that a small, pointy-eared halfling wanders onto the deck from below, bleary-eyed and groggy from recent awakening. She seems mildly oblivious to the goings-on around her, and moreover, seems to be snacking on a bit of chiffon, a fair amount in her free hand.
"D-did we make a new f-friend?"
Adriana looks at Vixie and says,"Probably not a friend but a possible ally..." she looks out at the river, "Unfortunately we do not have any spare meat to offer you...but we do have some cake."
Another pause from the shape. "Cake?"
"...what is this... cake?"
The little dragon was slow to rouse from their brief nap then blinks a bit as the party is talking about food and their stomach rumbles a bit in sympathy. Having too much cake (for their size) over the past few days has made them rather... tired of it and almost longing for trail rations... or even a nice gristly rat -- and they hate rats.
As they stumble forth and listen, daring not to chime in with spooky person who is demanding a toll and whatnot being handled by the taller people in the party, a thought occurs to them.
"Okay, I don't have a lot of meat on my bones but if the cake isn't good enough then I guess I can try to pay the toll? I taste pretty rancid, though, so I've been told." Max offers hopefully, in an effort to resolve the situation peacefully.
"Cake is a pastry made of grains and sugars, and I don't know a lot beyond that. Vixie would know more, she works in a bakery." the suggestion is being honest and genuine...
"I'm sure no one needs to be eaten for us to pass, Maxilla. I have a few foods in my pack as well, if cake is unacceptable." Nodding towards the fog, he added, "Cake is generally considered a delicacy and a treat, to be eaten on celebrations and occasions of joy. Most people will only eat it a handful of times a year, far less if they are poorer. It takes a lot of ingredients and skill to make."
"...hmm."
The shape is silent for a few moments.
"Give me a piece of this... cake. If it's to my taste, perhaps I'll allow you passage after all..."
Vixie looks around, holding her cake-filled hand aloft. "Y-you can h-have some, M-Miss, but... uhm... w-where are you?" she asks.
Adriana reaches out for the cake, "I will do it, Vixie,"
The shape inches closer to the barge as Adriana holds out a piece of cake.
Then a long, spindly arm reaches out from the fog, tipped with talons dripping with water. The shape plucks the cake out of her hand and yanks it into the mist.
There's a few chewing sounds.
"...sugary. Sweet. Yeeeesssssss." The shrill voice chuckles.
Khalaban decided now was not the time to tell the creature about assorted chocolates. "I take it that it pleases you?" If they could spread the news then the water traffic would be safe as long as someone made cookies.
"We know of people who could make more of this, if it is to your liking, ma'am!" Max offers hopefully. "We could let others know that this is an appropriate tribute, if you wanted? And it'd really be an upraised digit to the masked soft-skins!"
"Oh, this would be quite lovely... for now." The voice replies.
"On your way, then." The shape begins to recede into the mist.
"Oh, and beware of the monsters..." She ends with a chuckle before disappearing entirely.
"Well, that happened." Khalaban relaxed a little and looked at the captain. "May I suggest hiring a cook chef next time you're in a good port?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"I don't think that will work all the time...what do you think she meant by 'monsters'?" and then under her breath "We should have brought the sheep"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"What a fascinating interaction." Bertrand smiles widely. "May we please get as far away from here as soon as possible?"
"Yes. Let's." The dwarven captain takes up her barge pole and shoves off from the shore. "Before she comes back for seconds."
The barge sails down the dark river, the mist thinning out and disappearing after a while...
---------------
The rest of the trip passes without incident. One more day passes before the river widens and opens into the gleaming Lake Encarthan, its waters sparkling in the morning sun. The River Cutter keeps close to the shoreline, at the captain's behest. "She's meant for water travel, not open lakes like ol' Encarthan. No telling what's living in it, but I don't reckon to test if they're fond of wayward barges."
After another hour, the skyline of the city of Tamran comes into view. Ships of many sizes are docked at the city's piers--some are modest pinnaces and sloops, but there's a merchantman or two making port here today. The docks are crowded with crates, barrels and swarthy dockworkers hauling them to and fro.
The captain looks at the party. "Welcome to Tamran, folks. Capital of ol' Nirmanthas."
Galen's face pales when he sees all the people hustling about. "...oh... um... that's a lot of people. And Absalom's bigger than this?"
"Sure as the sun's shining, she is." The captain gives the callow youth a glance. "Why, you having second thoughts?"
The redheaded young man's pale face speaks volumes without him needing to say a word.
Khalaban smiled at the young man. "It is a larger place than any I have visited before, but thousands of people make the city there home. Visiting should not be too hard. Simply secure your purse somewhere that a thief cannot easily access it - I hear they can be many in some cities, and even have there own guilds and the like - keep an eye on the taller landmarks as you walk, so you can find your way. It shouldn't be too hard."
Bertrand admires the city (and the dockworkers). "Ah, it's nice to be in an ever so slightly more urbane setting. I believe I will enjoy it here... provided we aren't all slaughtered by masked cultists, of course."
Vixie emerges from belowdecks wearing her armor and her backpack and her eyes widen, mouth falling open; a few of her teeth are more pointed than they used to be. She has never been this far from Kassen-- there are likely more people at the docks than she's seen in her entire life.
Galen swallows nervously and looks at the party. "...how far is Absalom from here?"
"A couple country's worth of miles, kid." The captain replies as she begins the process of moving the barge up to a pier to dock. "The most direct way would be to take a couple of caravans to Cheliax through Molthune, then board a ship in Ostenso for Absalom."
Galen's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and his face turns white as a sheet. "Are you serious?!"
His eyes then dart right back to Adriana. "I-I-I don't think I'm up to this..."
Adriana give him a sly smile,"Yes it is a trip I made myself. It is quite fun. Though I would not linger in Cheliax...and dont tell them you are specifically delivering messages to the temple of Calistria." she pauses and thinks," It might be best to avoid Chrliax entirely. You wanted to see the world...you are going have to travel. Or did you think everything was within a few miles from hime?"
She gives him a encouraging smile," If you want I can help you find your first caravan...and when you get to Absalom i can guarantee my sister will show the time of your life. Yes the risks are high...but so are the rewards.
"Time will pass regardless," Khalaban noted philosophically, "The only question is will the miles pass as well?"