Zandra smiled at Olivia and whispered "Why do men never show their emotions except when it serves little purpose to do so. Hopefully you don't take it personally."
Sacerdos spun on his heels and waited for the ranger to approach. He settled himself a bit, knowing that Karthan was coming along for the journey. Another competent warrior along with Olivia was welcome. The Inquisitor had little knowledge of this Onura, but judging by the way she was ordering about her groomsmen, she seemed competent as well. "Good, I'll be happy to have your bow."
"I know little of the vessel itself. It sails regularly on this route, Absalom being the normal stop on its way to points south of here." Sacerdos offered. "The ship is captained by a Vossian Velsurian, a collector and merchant of some sort. His crew numbers roughly 15 or 16, Stoneanchor was uncertain simply because they may have picked up or lost some crew members along their journey."
There was an element that bothered him, something that had been nagging at the back of his mind. "When I departed Magnimar, my order had been hard pressed to find a ship willing to travel this far and willing to bring along three..." He paused and ground his teeth. "...once these boatmen learned they would be hired to carry 3 clerics held in state...within sarcophagi...they almost to the one, balked at the request. Finding out that they were eventually successful gives me pause. Namely, what type of person did they find? Dutiful captain? Or a cad?"
"Well regardless of the type of person he was, it is unlikely that any captain would be willing to give up his ship and just let it go to drift. Why not simply dump the bodies overboard and never return to Magnimar?. . . Sacredos is it possible that these three clerics weren't simply bereft of heir souls? Do you know if anything else was done to their bodies?"
"They had been captured in the dead of night, stolen from their respective locations in the city." He paused long enough to see the dwarf Stoneanchor departing the temple along with the human Coor. They would be departing soon and he had every intention of departing with them to ensure their preparations were swift and effective.
Sacerdos turned to continue his walk to the carriage, motioning for Karthan to fall in step beside him. "When they were eventually found, they'd each been beaten and subjected to torture. We killed all we could find who had been responsible save for the Varisian dancer who escaped with the kukri. Later that night, our priests commenced cleansing rights for the victims."
"I would like to say that if there were any taint left within them save for the anchor of their souls...that our clerics and oracles were able to cleanse them. But the level of magics and evil ritual required, who's to say." Sacerdos hated to admit a failing, but was there any way to truly be sure? "If it comes to their bodies being given over to whatever occurred on this ship...if they are responsible for some seaborne calamity...then I vow on my hope of salvation I will see them destroyed. They would want nothing less."
"I see, so my sister's worries may not be too far off. We shall help you put an end to their mortal vessels if need be, but let us keep hope that more mundane reasons have caused the crew to abandon ship and we recover your brethren."
"We will see you at the docks then in two hours time."
"Olivia I need to fill my healers bag, what potions, scrolls or equipment could we get from the temple for this journey?"
Karthan poked about the various items on the rack before plucking two arrows from a discarded quiver. He blows the dust from the fetching revealing iridescent golden feathers, then runs his fingers down the shafts before sighting down them to check that they are straight and true.
"Find something you like?" Zandra said without looking up at her brother as she sorted through anti plague and antitoxins on the shelves of a small cabinet.
Thor looked on, like the Lion Spinx of Osiron . . .
Why a lion? . . . They must not have had any tigers to work with as a model . . . Or perhaps they just had poor tastes, after all what royal family has a beetle, a mere insect that rolls poop into little balls as its royal symbol? . . . There must have been no Tigers in that land.
"Yes . . . Elven even. Deadeye Force Arrows. These can be good in a pinch. I'll take these."
Karthan kind of picked at some of the other items. Stalked about trying to find something else to find interest in while his sister filled her bag she had received from Caleb.
She can certainly pack, she is fitting an awful lot in that bag.
"Somehing is eating at you I can feel it. At least look about, this is a great opportunity to gather some things to give us an advantage."
"Well you certainly seem to be finding plenty of things for us all."
"This place is much different than home, so much more dangerous, the humans so much more . . . In need of these medications and poultices. In about 80 years they see all the maladies of youth, middle age and geriatrics. Natural disease, plagues, intelligently designed infections, illnesses. This temple is well stocked for when their magic has been stretched too thin, or needs a boost. Many of these compounds have nothing to do with magic or gods. They may be roughly from nature or even synthetic. Science is a new form of magic invented by these humans."
"I remember our lessons on alchemy. It's . . . It's ah, an interesting, um concept."
<sigh>"Just go."
"What?"
"Just go I know you are thinking of doing something, you don't want to be here and your mind is absent anyway so just go and do it."
"You know me too well."
"I do, but don't be late getting on the ship or I will tell Sacredos that you gave him an imitation Kukri and you are hiding the clerics souls down your pants."
"You wouldn't really?"
"Don't be late and you won't have to find out . . . And be careful. Enemies hide behind every blade of grass."
"then I won't delay . . . And Zandra."
"Yes?"
"Spend everything we have to fill your bag. I don't know if you will have this opportunity again."
Karthan turned and hurried towards the stables.
I will. If I were to fall you will have this bag to see you through.
Well that is sweet of you, but without opposable thumbs i wonder how useful I will find your bag and its stinky condiments.
Zandra giggled to herself. Maybe we can get you some thumbs to go with your wings Thor.
Karthan drove his horse hard to the Scroll's house and placed him hastily in the stable only taking long enough to remove his saddle and blanket. He them went into the house hoping to find Mal and Caleb inside.
As the elven ranger turned from the stall where he left his mount, he saw Gertrude in the next one over. Mal'undil's camel was resting comfortably in a pile of straw, knob-kneed legs folded neatly beneath her as she worked her jaw from side to side on some fresh feed.
From the stable and along the walkway to the back door of Caleb's shop/home, Karthan spotted Mal'undil leaning against the open door frame. The half-elf rogue was lighting a pipe with a tindertwig, a toothy grin as he held the stem of his pipe in his teeth and spoke. "Hey kid. You the only one interested in Caleb's cooking?" The pipe successfully lit he whipped the tindertwig back and forth to douse it and flicked it into the dirt by the open door. "Can't say I blame you." He raised his voice over his shoulder. "His mutton tastes like a mule's rear end after it just finished eating Molthunian goulash!"
Mal looked over Karthan's shoulder. "Where's the rest?"
"Headed for the docks or at least getting ready to go there. When we got back from the Arcanum, which is a fireside tale on its own, Some people were waiting for us. Hindare told us that the forearm on their sashes means they were members of Second Harbormaster Ptarnex Dexarion inner council. Captain Stoneanchor’s second, Windsinger Onura Limnestti, um . . . Met with us. . . It turns out that The Lydias Wake, the ship Sacredos was waiting on has become a possible ghost ship. The merfolk informed the Harbormasters that the Lydia's Wake arrived two days ago adrift on the currents west of the Isle of Kortos."
"They weighed her anchor and kept her from drifting into the rocks. From what they know, the crew is either dead or abandoned ships. Captain Stoneanchor's office was contacted. The merfolk were intent upon burning the ship, but the temple had a standing request of notification for the Lydia's Wake. So there is to be a expedition to the ship mounted by Onura."
"Onura, huh?" Mal took a few puffs from his pipe and moved back inside the seating area they'd been using as a meeting room of sorts for the past few days. "Quite a captain, yes indeed." The half elf grinned back at the ranger. "Crazier than a caged shark, Onura, but a more...versed sea captain you're not going to find. You're in good hands."
Mal chuckled a bit and took a seat at the main table. The smells of roasted mutton and vegetables drifted from the front of the shop where the kitchens were located. They could hear Caleb singing to himself in his rich baritones, an old song about two distant loves separated by the war in Molthune.
"So, out with it, Karthan. What do you want to know?" He leaned back in his chair and pointed to the one opposite him at the table.
"Well what I wanted to know is since everyone is going to miss the party can I at least have mine in a basket to go? I also might need some pointers on how to stay out from under the captain's feet among other things if you know her. She likes the cut of my jib, but I got the feeling she is already promised to another. I don't want to get keelhauled the first day I am back from sea. On a serious note though I want you to come with us."
Karthan gestured for Mal to join him in the kitchen. "Time is short my friend and I have much to tell. You both need to hear this and in don't have the luxury of telling it twice."
Karthan told Mal and Caleb all that had transpired at the Arcanum including between Fir'umil and himself. He was as much looking for feedback as he was reporting on what had happened. He discussed finding out who was in charge of the elven court and explained that he needed to gather more information on their activities here in the city.
". . . So I rode back here to pick up a few things that we left here, pole arms and such. I had been looking forward to dinner, relaxation and a chance to firm friendships that I had previously been cool about due to the circumstances of having been summoned here. Events as of late have demonstrated who has been in my corner, or at least who has been least manipulative in the corse of my life. Mal'undil I hope that you will come with us. Caleb, that goes for you too."
Caleb was already busy packing a few morsels for Karthan. At least enough to feed several members of the party should they show an interest. Mal watched the old man work as he considered Karthan’s recounting of things since the Temple encounter. Deep down, the half-elf already knew what Caleb’s answer would be. Probably the same answer he gave Mal’undil when he’d asked him to head up to Isger a couple years back. Even the old man’s fondness for Kheegan hadn’t been enough for him to sign on.
”Fir’umil? You’re getting along with Fir’umil?” Mal folded his arms and grabbed a bar stool near the kitchen counter. ”Hells, kid, I’d go along just to see that alone.” He absently pulled a toothpick from a small porcelain holder on the counter. ”As far as Onura’s concerned, though. I’ve no idea if she’s spoken for or not. My guess would be ‘no’...but a qualified ‘no’.”
”Sorry, my boy,” Caleb was grabbing up a crockery jar with a cork lid to put in another helping of mutton. ”I’ve met the Windsinger on two occasions if memory serves. On both I found her outspoken, beautiful, a bit on the saucy side, and all-together charming. She doesn’t strike me as a woman willing to be betrothed to any man...perhaps only the sea would be able to capture her heart and hold it.”
Mal chuckled and clapped. ”Poetic, Scroll. As always.”
Caleb bowed his head in appreciation of the half-elf’s applause. ”Now the meeting with Tabir...that is interesting as well. It would explain a lot, however, learning that a doppelganger has been in his place for all these years.”
”Yeah, like how I wasn’t ever allowed to meet him, even when it was supposedly him that hired me to meet your cousins Fir’umil and Hal’dorel on the docks when they first arrived.” Mal shrugged, flipping the toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other. ”Not that I’m out of sorts when conducting business through a proxy or a Mr. Yahnson if you get my drift, but there was an exceptional candy shell of mystery around Tabir when the assignment came down the pipe.”
”I should like to meet him.” Caleb added. ”Perhaps there is something I can do to aid with his...malady.”
”Unstable mind like a bag of cats plus a century’s worth of magical knowledge?” Mal’undil clapped his hands together with loud effect. ”Sounds like a great way to get one’s self turned into a rat or monkey...maybe a chicken with four legs.”
Pulling the toothpick from his mouth and pointing it at Karthan, Mal continued. ”This business with the elven court, though. I’d stay out of Fahtima Ishbellana’s general area and I’d steer clear of her lot for as long as possible.”
”I found her quite reasonable, affable and pleasant.” Caleb offered.
”You’d find a minotaur pleasant.” Mal chided then looked pointedly at Karthan. ”A copper for my thoughts? Steer clear. Too many entanglements for my liking. You think you’re annoyed with manipulations now? Wait till you wade into that nest of tree humpers...” He winced a bit as his vigorous use of color.
”Perhaps I can put in a good word while you’re all away?” Caleb responded.
”I’d say leave it be for as long as you’re able, but…whoa...I never said I was getting on any ship. Besides I’ve got a few things already lined up this week that I’ve been putting off since you and your sister arrived.” He pointed at Karthan again with his toothpick.
”Like what?” Caleb challenged.
Mal frowned at the Scroll’s back. ”Save it, old man. I’ve got business in the city and you know it. There’s that thing with Bindgrav that needs attention…” He began counting off on his fingers. ”...the loose strings that need tightening up northways thanks to you...there’s also the small task of looking in on that mess in Coppertown. I’d like to know who’s going to be filling the gaps down there…”
Caleb’s portly girth, perched upon his skinnier legs like a child’s top spun on the half-elf. The ladle he was wielding splattered mutton stew gravy across Mal’s cheek.
”Hey!”
The old man waved him off. ”None of those things need that much attention. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle while you’re gone. I'm too old for such adventures, and my place is here in the city.”
”I might like some rest too.” Mal shrugged, toothpick hanging off his lip. ”I’m not as young as I used to be and the past three days has been nonstop nonsense thanks to this guy and his sister.”
”Now that it’s staring you in the face, the bigger picture scares you so much you don’t want it anymore?”
”Bah, I’m not saying that…”
Another spin of the ladle and Caleb stopped Mal’s protests. ”He’ll be glad to go, my boy. Mal’undil gather your things. I’m sure you can rest your old bones on the ship. If I've heard rightly, the Lucky Slip is a well appointed three-master, fast and sleek but not lacking appointments.”
Mal'undil sighed. "Okay." He spat his toothpick into the sink and opened his hands and grinned broadly. "You got me, kid. Besides, a derelict ship in the middle of the ocean, clerics with stolen souls...and a Windsinger Captain who quite possibly might be a pirate in disguise...what could go wrong?"
"One last thing since we are talking about loose ends, the Rook told me he had contacts at The Splendid Lass, a small tavern on the southside of the Merchant's Quarter. he told me to just ask for Lester. Does that name ring a bell? Should we be concerned about more reprisals?"
"I had been wanting to tell you about it, but things kind of took off on their own."
Mal'undil thought for a moment, going through his rogue's gallery of lowlife scum. He shook his head. "Can't say as I know him. Doesn't mean we can't shake some trees when we get back."
He looked to Caleb who waved him off. "I'll add it to the list of things I'll be taking care of for you while you're off gallivanting upon the high seas."
"As far as reprisals? Yeah, I think there'll be some sore folks out there looking to get even for the Rook." Mal shrugged as though saying there wasn't much to be done for it. "We can always hope that they'll be too busy trying to fill in the hole left behind. Hard to get vengeful when so many are trying to get stabby behind your own back."
Mal left the room quickly, returning from his room upstairs with his go-bag he snapped his fingers. "One thing going for us. The Temple of Iomedae will be sending clerics and acolytes down to Copperwood to clean up that demon house we burned down. They'll be in the area to help out."
Karthan gave Mal a smile and bowed to Caleb. "I thank you both as friends and mentors. I am glad my family has you to help us navigate and survive this city. I shall take your advice and steer clear of the Elven Court for now. However, I fear they certainly must know Fir'umil. It will only be a matter of time before they learn it was I who felled the Rook. I would one day have answers as to why he was allowed to operate in the city in the open for so long given his crimes in my homeland. But that can wait for now."
"It is good to have you with us Mal. It gives me confidence that we shall succeed and hopefully you can lead me past any further entanglements."
"Don't thank me yet, kid." Mal'undil climbed into Gertrude's saddle and grinned. "You haven't seen the kind of vomit I can churn up on a nice boat ride."
Mal's camel grunted in agreement.
"Stow it, Gertie."
Caleb patted the side of Karthan's horse and whispered conspiratorially to the elf. "When the time's right, let him know I slipped some crushed carbon in his things. There's some there for all of you should the seas be too rough."
As is the way of things, the group assembles at the appointed time. Heavy clouds of gray hang over their heads, promising rain and already delivering gusts of wind off the harbor. In an expected touch of irony not lost on the elven siblings, the Lucky Slip was moored at the same pier as the Banded Fist had been only a few days prior. Had it only been a week since they’d arrived in Absalom? So much had changed, enough for at least a human lifetime. But upheavals seemed to be part and parcel of life in the City at the Center of the World.
After seeing that Hindre, Caleb’s trusty assistant, would handle the mounts, the group bid farewell to him and headed down the pier. Hindre only grunted a dismissal, but Mal hinted that that was normal for the old man and not to take it personally. With Gertrude and Karthan’s horse tied to the carriage, Hindre wheeled the vehicle into the throngs of traffic so typical of the docks.
Flapping in the wind was the vibrant banner of the Lucky Slip, a visual clarion call to the group ensuring that the not miss the magnificence of Onura Limnestti’s vessel. A white field, depicting a stylized mermaid slipping from the jaws of a giant seabeast, the banner clear as it stood out in the wind. In actuality, the banner was hardly needed. The vessel itself was a sight to behold. Graceful lines of beautifully chosen wood, lacquered in blacks and golds. A three master, with four decks, possibly a fifth counting the bilge and cargo decks, the Lucky Slip was as handsome a boat as the group had ever seen.
Mal’undil whistled. ”No wonder we hadn’t enough scratch to take her out?” Mal commented. ”They were three and four times the cost of the ship we ended up hiring to cart us to the mainland.”
They continued down the pier, seeing the familiar figure of Windsinger Onura along with several others who were most likely her main crew. The elven captain was in an animated discussion with Sacerdos and a half-orc. The shouting culminated with Sacerdos leveling a finger at the half-orc.
”I’ve seen enough of your kind to last two lifetimes.” The Inquisitor shot a hardened stair at Onura. ”Keep him away from me, Captain. This is my only warning.”
Onura, half a foot shorter than the Inquisitor stood before him, hands planted on her swayed hips. ”And I tell you this, e’Niihl, you’ll respect my crew or I’ll see you thrown overboard and the Lydia’s Wake burned.” Her voice was casual, barely audible above the wind whipping off of the harbor. But it carried all the authority of her years as a captain.
Sacerdos gritted his teeth, weighing his duty with the obvious hatred he apparently had for anything with orc blood. ”So be it,” It was all he said. He turned on his heels and headed up the gangplank to the ship.
After he’d cleared the rails, Onura said over her shoulder to the half-orc. ”Sheesh, Kraken, I thought you smelled particularly nice this fine afternoon. Much less like a pig’s arse than usual.”
The half-orc only chuckled, seemingly taking it in stride.
Seeing the rest of the party arriving, Onura placed thumb and forefinger to her lips and whistled the crew over. From among the folks manning the loading effort, four individuals stepped forward to her call. Three humans and a dwarf to add to Onura and the half-orc standing before the party.
”This is my crew,” Onura announced proudly. She worked her way down the line…
First is a skinny human with ebony skin, a Mwangi by the look of him, whose introduced by Onura as her First Mate…
Years ago, Cendrik was a brash young thief in Riddleport. During one of his many adventures, he and his gang infiltrated a temple to the god of thieves and assassins, where he slew several priests and looted the temple of its sacred relics—including the talisman that he currently wears.
Seeing some potential in him, Onura took him on as a deckhand 15 years ago when he was running from what passed as the law in Riddleport. He’s shown his truer quality in the years since, working his way up in the crew.
Cendrik lost his eye in a barroom brawl eight years ago and hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since.
Next is the half-orc who the Windsinger introduces as…
He bares tattoos of intertwining dragons, sea serpents, sharks, and nude women leading from his neck leading down his arms and torso. A particularly well rendered tattoo of a magnificent kraken covers his entire back.
Kraken is easily the largest (7’-4”, 340 lbs.) and strongest crewmember on the ship, but he’s also somewhat dim-witted and prone to fits of rage. He wields a greataxe in battle and rarely wears more than a dingy, yellowing breechclout and sandals when on board. Currently he’s got color-washed, bronze colored breeches that end just past the knees.
After Kraken, Onura nods to the only other female in the crew’s ranks…
Then comes another human, this one looking to have a horrendous scar at his neck…
Last but not least is the dwarf…
Onura looks to Mal’undil, studying him up and down, eyes narrowing. ”Have we met?”
”Can’t say we have, darlin’.” Mal responded flippantly.
Kraken squeezed his fists, the cracking knuckles audible even above the racing wind.
Onura rested a hand against the half-orc’s bare, tattooed chest. ”Easy big boy.” She sashayed up to half-elf and rested her hands on her hips. ”Mal’undil, right?”
”At your service,” Mal responded.
”Call me ‘darling’ once more, and we’ll see how long it takes me to geld you.” She stated it with a warm smile and understated eyes. ”I’ll feed them to the pigs.”
Mal attempts to keep his cool. ...but you can tell he's been put off his guard.
After a pause, Onura steps back. ”Glad to have you aboard, Mal’undil. I’ve heard good things about your work for the Scroll. I’m sure we’ll have interesting conversations.”
With that, she stepped back from the party and motioned to the gangplank. ”Shall we?” Her eyes linger on Karthan appreciatively, but she includes the group in her invitation.
Sense motive
Damn, was she being serious?! Holy Cow, I've gotta protect my nuts man!"
Karthan went stock still, but inside he was a coiled viper ready to strike.
Kraken first, because he will be the slowest, hamstrings, Achilles, then behind the elbows . . . "
Sensing a change in the cub Thor stood up, eyes wide, nostrils flaring ever so slightly as he lowered his weight towards his shoulders.
Zandra stepped forward, steepled her index and pointer finger and slightly inclined her brow. "Forgive Mal'undil, for he has been immersed in much less formal environs for far too long. His term of endearment was meant to reflect his appreciation for your beauty and if he had not shortened it, dearly beloved, regarded with special favor and charming."
Zandra stood and met Onuras eyes. She knew the elf much older than herself knew the meaning of the word . . . That was more for the benefit of her crew and to diffuse the situation.
"Mal'undil has led our band to victory in several battles. In the last few days he has seen The Rook's Empire toppled, destroyed cults, and brought justice for many wrongs and foul deeds. He will be an asset to the defense of your ship and for exploring and securing the Lydia's Wake." To help Mal'undil save face as well.
"Thank you for reminding us of the company we shall be keeping aboard your ship. It is good to be sailing under an elven captain's command."
Onura grinned at Zandra, hands still on her hips. "Flattery will get you everywhere, youngling. But rest assured, I know full well Mal'undil's background and how well he can guard or let loose his tongue. Promises and warnings can go a lot further in my line of work than a scroll's worth of history." Onura rested a hand lightly on Zandra's shoulder. "But I do like your panache!"
She turned back to the half-elf rogue. "So, you've really gone straight?"
"It's better for my health." Mal responded.
Onura shrugged. "Pity, a cutthroat is much more useful out there." she said, motioning towards the harbor and the sea beyond.
"As for you," Onura moved to Karthan and stood next to him, facing her crew as though she were observing them too. "Velryssa's the one you'd go for first. While Kraken here can squeeze your neck until your head pops like a barnacle, my dear Velryssa will have you on your back faster than you can say, 'there's a dagger in my eye!'" She clapped Karthan on the back. "But I guess you can't blame yourself for trying."
The Windsinger motioned for the crew to get aboard, some of her regular boys coming over to grab up the party's gear. When the party moved forward to hit the gangplank, she held Karthan back to speak with him in private.
"Mind yourself, Dawnsetter." She warned. "I won't have you starting fights aboard my ship. I don't care how cute you look in a pair of breeches, I'll throw you overboard with a stone tied about your ankles."
She slapped Karthan on the rump and grinned. "Now, let's get underway, shall we?"
What are you trying to do sister?
Karthan was still clueless.
You board the ship and are given a tour of her decks. The Lucky Slip is a well appointed vessel with 5 decks. Between the top deck and the Gun Deck, there is are guest quarters. This is where you're directed.
Go ahead and let me know how you want to bunk up.
Here is a breakdown of the ship:
All Decks except quarters
The vessel is well maintained, bearing a crew of 35 outside the core crew to whom you were introduced. Also, you note there are actual cannons on board, gun powder being something of a rarity.
"As for you," Onura moved to Karthan and stood next to him, facing her crew as though she were observing them too. "Velryssa's the one you'd go for first. While Kraken here can squeeze your neck until your head pops like a barnacle, my dear Velryssa will have you on your back faster than you can say, 'there's a dagger in my eye!'" She clapped Karthan on the back. "But I guess you can't blame yourself for trying."
The Windsinger motioned for the crew to get aboard, some of her regular boys coming over to grab up the party's gear. When the party moved forward to hit the gangplank, she held Karthan back to speak with him in private.
"Mind yourself, Dawnsetter." She warned. "I won't have you starting fights aboard my ship. I don't care how cute you look in a pair of breeches, I'll throw you overboard with a stone tied about your ankles."
Karthan's eyes looked over Velryssa and her weapon. Hummm, either you've revealed your best blade, or you are using misdirection and obfuscation like everyone and everything else in this place. . . I have no doubt the most dangerous person on this ship is you Windsinger.
There . . . Could you see it that time?
Thor sent while assuming a much more relaxed and aloof manner.
and don't worry, I already had the one with the rapier picked out . . . <sniff>
Yes . . . Definately and defiantly a wolverine. For better or for worse, he is my brother, but he needs to learn that Mal'undil apparently likes to walk the thin line and Karthan is too inexperienced to see it.
"Thank you Windsinger, I took look for smooth idling and full sails."