Karl nods his head at Nosa's words.
"Your father was a paladin then. . . I want both of you boys to remember something, almost anyone can rend and destroy the flesh, there are few that can knit and soothe it. It is a gift. Being the best swordsman in the city means little when your friends lie dying their life's blood and innards running through your useless fingers that have once too often been turned to hate. . . Protect your gifts."
Karl gives a nervous cough and drops his eyes.
"And have a good time spending your coin. I will see you aboard ship."
"Come on short shanks."
Karl moves away towards a set of buildings speaking low with his halfling companion.
"It's a good start for sure. Our portions collected now plus what I had given them before. Good for sure. This is it Linkah, a new beginning like you had dreamed and finally got me to envision."
Karl rests his hand on Link's shoulder.
"One last piece of business though and you can't help me with this one. . . "
Linkah had said to me with those damn doe-like eyes of his, "Marshy, don't become a victim of yourself. Forget about the thief waiting in the alley; what about the thief in your mind?” . . . That little bastard is too damn human like for my own good. He really knows how to place his mind daggers and darts to a guys heart. I'd hate to see him put a dagger someone for real.
Karl hesitated at the entrance.
This was going to be like blood for blood and by the gallons. I was about to meet up with the scariest person presently involved in my life. It felt like, the bad days, the all-or-nothing days. They were back. There's no choices left. I needed to go in and be ready for war and then for hell afterward.
"Naw . . . Hell's waking up every g$$+$#n day and not even knowing why you're here. But I'm out of that dark place now. It took someone who was kind to me getting a few blokes killed to do it. But I'm out. And I know exactly what I'm gonna do. It's time to settle this."
The last time I walked down an alley feeling like this there were cultists. Dozens of them. Armed to the teeth. My fingers twitch muscle memory willing me to fill them with steel. My eye starts doing that thing where it feels like my eyelid is having an epileptic fit.
I hate when it does that . . .
That last time I was outnumbered. Outgunned. But the alley was crooked, dark, and very narrow. They couldn't surround me. Sometimes you can beat the odds with a careful choice of where to fight. And I was wearing the mask. Torn from its previous owners face. Through its eye holes I saw the world for what it was. That alley was awash with blood. I painted the walls with it. Watched it spray down on the cobblestones like rain. It flowed like tributaries in between the stones to fall down the grated storm drains and baptize the rats below.
Karl works his way towards the turn. He knows his nemesis is just around the corner, her perfume gives her away.
There she is . . .
His mind works for something to say.
"Do I still have that look? The long gone stare when someone knows they ain’t comin’ back? I hope not cause I've got big plans for the girls and the halfers . . . Kinda thought you might figure into those too if you want. Heh, a bit short notice I know, but that was to protect them and you. I gotta go south for a bit, but I plan on makin' it back if you can wait for me just a little bit longer. I know I've been putting you through hell for years, but this is a chance for change. A fresh start."
♟
Karl Marsh
Tea, Biscuits & Halflings
♟
She isn't that far away. Just passed the bend in the road that eventually ends at a junction, there is a chandler shop, the smells of tallow and the woven hemp and cinnamon and olive oil strong in the air as the candle makers went about their trade. On the north side of the shop stands a wood carver who specializes in lanterns and lamps, forming a partnership with the chandlers.
In the alleyway between the shops, small wooden tables are set out for those seeking a respite from the day and perhaps a muffin or sweet cake from the wood carver's shop - his routing and joinery notwithstanding, Master Hephaesus is quite the baker. There is only one patron this afternoon a woman of dark brown hair and sharp eyes sips at a cup of tea and waits.
Soon, a man enters the alley, old instincts pausing him there as he takes on the surroundings and gauges the level of danger. Satisfied but still walking as though he'll be attacked, he steps deeper into the alley and towards the tables. Though his demeanor is that of quiet danger, his voice betrays the nerves stretched tight behind his eyes.
"Corvim was ever so insistent. I wondered at what could make a halfling turn so serious." Miranda looks up into Karl's eyes and smiles. "But ya do have a way, don't ya. What have ya learned? And where will this take us?" She places a hand in the air to stop the response she knows is coming. "I'll not have ya given me the shine of it, Marshy. I'll have the lot of it, unpolished and polished. I'm no porcelain jar ya gotta tip toe around. Ya tell me what I'm in for, then give me the benefit of makin' up me mind, well I'll be happy to wait."
She pauses and smiles again, realizing the frown that had materialized. "As for the rest of 'em, ya know Chesain n' Rayna will like as not be glad to go. But the other girls, they're happy with their lot in life, the dwarf treats them good." Miranda straightens her back and works her shoulders, wincing when the old aches come. "Is be sure Corvim's already gatherin' Wuzza n' Beezer to come along."
”Well, for starters you are set up with well over a thousand crowns to get things up and running. I know all of you working together can make it work and keep it upscale. I’ve let a few people in on the idea that can help send the right people our way. That will help keep the wrong element from seeping in.”
”Its not that the dwarf is a bad sort, I just want to give you and the others a chance to be their own masters. To benefit from their own labors you know? I don’t want to run it like a top down type establishment. Everyone will be partners in it, but most importantly I want them, and you, to know I don’t want anything from them in return other than for them to be happy. If anyone wants out or wants to come back here I promise I will work myself to the bone to make sure that it happens.”
”I would be dishonest if I said I wasn’t getting anything out of it. This is about atonement and healing for me. I’m done feeling destroyed, down and out. I wasted so many years and even now I am crushed by all that lost potential and damage I allowed in its wake, because I sat there in in in . . . what?! Self pity?”
”Was is okay for me to just sit there and pretend if it wasn’t happening to me or to my little sphere of influence within the front doors of the knuckle that anything else around it was just . . . whatever?!”
”Ill give myself a waiver when I am so old that I cannot lift my sword or effect a change, but to do nothing for so long it is inexcusable.”
Tears threaten to well up.
”Damn it this is not where I wanted this discussion to go.”
Karl pauses to regain control of himself.
”Look I am not going to lie to you. After years of day to day inactivity I’ve got a lot of pokers in the fire. The chickens have come home to roost. . . . The guy who stopped by the other day, the dangerous one who called himself Dobbs---a real professional, he had his sights on Agidor, maybe me too. That’s part of the reason I was keeping it all quiet.”[/b’
[b]”Then there is what led me to this city in the first place, trying to rescue my kids’ souls. The trail went cold here . . . I knew Marcum and maybe a few others might be able to get me back on track, but there were some . . . factors . . .getting in the way of that, they’ve now been handled. I don’t have a clear path to follow, but I did put out feelers. If I die I fear they will remain lost for eternity, which was the only thing that kept me here at times. I think I’ve finally got myself to a point that I am ready to forgive myself if there is nowhere left to look, but if there is any credible lead I feel I will need to follow it . . . that will likely put me in a rub with father Skinsaw.”
”Then there is this little mess I have gotten myself in.”
What do I tell you. You say you want to know it all true, but does a parent tell their small children everything evil that lies outside the door? The more I share with you the more danger I put you in.
”Like I said, its going to take me south for a bit, but Link and I have gotten that sack of coin legit from it. I have to see this thing out, hopefully I will return with even more to invest. I’ll move you and the girls further uptown, or wherever you want. If I eat it down there it’s all yours to keep. You’re free and clear, but you have my word that I will try to make it back. A new city, a new life; a chance to fix so many things. There are clerics there that could help me find out how to get my kids back. Their captors my be there too. I’m just telling you because I can’t say it won’t place you in danger, but I honestly believe you will be safer in Absolom, which is why I want you to go.”
Karl waits for her to respond.
♟
Karl Marsh
Tea, Biscuits & Halflings
♟
Miranda studies Karl's face for a long moment. There's suspicion but no judgment at the man's words, but she can't stop her instincts. In her life, everyone has a mask. Everyone.
"Ok." She responds simply, eyes holding his until Karl gets the impression Miranda is drawing her own conclusions about the disclosure so far. "I'll see who's got a pinch in their knickers to leave town. But like I said, I've already got a fair idea." Another moment and she stands, crosses her arms and touches the necklace chain curved over her clavicle. "Watch yourself down there, Karl. Listen to ol' Link when he sounds the warning. He has a knack at sniffin' out trouble."
"I'd give Aggie a bit o' the warnin' too. He's got a knack for gettin' his b!~$!+@s in the lock up. If he's got someone willing ta pay the likes o' Dobbs ta see 'im end... likely there's another." She frowns quizzically and shakes her head. "Never understood why a bloke like Aggie kept his affairs in the Fen. Chap's gotta fair singing voice and is a bit all rights at the guitar. My sense o' him, he's runnin' from something." Her down depends and she gives Karl a nudge. "Now don't go given the poor chap the grievances, Marshy. Aggie's good folk. Any bloke who'd risk their Jacobs ta help out Helios n' that bunch, they can't be all bad."
After the nudge, Miranda leaves her hand on Karl's chest and stares into his eyes. "I hear Outhouse say, a man's gotta know his limitations. Know yours, eh? Your old life is o'er the horizon, no good to you or me. Look at the world through these eyes, like as nor you'll see things afresh... might catch a sight o' something important." A deep breath and she pats him once and steps back. "Right then, off with ya 'fore I call the Watch n' have ya throne in the stocks for bein' an idiot."
"Linkah . . . That little twerp, he got me into this. We saved a few of the villagers and some of the kids taken from Southridge or whatever it was, but uncovered a cult that runs deep. So deep that some of the members' blood runs blue. There were more villages emptied out. They've been up to this for a while and the reach that we know of spans several countries. Some of the bearded are going to loose their heads around here, it's going to get uglier before it gets better. . . I think Agidor has been dancing around trying to keep the small people out of the way while it plays out."
Karl thinks for a moment. Then steps forward to touch Miranda in return.
"There's more, but I've probably said to much as it is. I just don't want you to think I don't have enough respect and trust to tell it to you straight."
"Yeah, Link got me into this, but I'm damn lucky for it. A few days ago I believed you be better off with me out if your life. Not that I was trying to get myself killed on purpose mind you, just that I was willing to take a bet weighted heavily in favor of the house. I couldn't b$~@#~*% you, you saw the look."
"A few days later and it's all different. Link and I got enough together that we can set things up. I know its more than most people could ever dream of seeing all at once, but I want to do it right. Getting you and the others out of the Fen and on that ship is part of my payment for going south. I hope when I get back I'll have a grip more in coin, but not for the sake of money. For the sake of what we can do with it. I want . . . I want to . . . to do good things with it."
Karl licks his lips nervously his eyes searching Miranda's face.
"I've been rubbing shoulders with good men, men of honor and substance. It makes me want that again."
Karl drops his eyes and his face darkens for a moment.
"I almost killed a kid today, Miranda, not really a kid, but a pompous teenaged noble kid. It f+&@in scared me."
Karl grabs Miranda gently by her arms.
"I haven't been living my life right since the time you've known me, before that I did bad things, horrible things. I was a monster. Looking at this kid was like looking into a mirror. It made me think . . . Deep down I may still be that same great kid I used to be. But it's not who you are underneath, it's what you do that defines you. I need to do some things to change who I've been. I've got to try to wash my soul so that it can stand naked in the light again."
I know rage has driven, fed and owned me. That impossible anger strangling the grief, until the memory of my loved ones was just... poison in my veins. And then one day, I catch myself wishing the people I loved had never existed, so that I would be spared my pain. . . What kind of creature does that make me?!"
"If you dance with demons you don't change them, they change you. You say my old life is gone, you are right, I have been trying to see the world through your eyes. Because you saw something in me that kept you from turning from me for all these years and now I am trying to find it for myself."
"I was a good man a long time ago and a noble one at that, but then things started getting fuzzy around the edges. . ."
Karl stops himself
"If I told you I was going south because I owe Linkah one, I'd be saying it straight, but only a part of the truth. I need to go so that I can return a man worthy of you, one who has offset the evil he's done and at least fight if not slay the demons that haunt me."
Karl lifts up the chain around Miranda's neck. The beautiful butterfly charm dangling at the end between them given life like it is fluttering on the wind.
|
Beckett smiles at the old shop keeper.
Has the Everlight put this device in my path? I long to go to the Dawn... yet... I have no right to hasten my way. No right to reduce the punishment due for my line.
The Inquisitor glances at his companions.
Nor do I have the right to deny aid to the innocent.
Beckett rubs the sides of his head with his palms as he speaks.
"Sir, I will purchase this wand of healing."
With a sigh, Beckett pulls out his pouch to withdraw the required coins.
♟
Karl Marsh
Tea, Biscuits & Halflings
♟
Miranda let's his words sink in and pinches her chin between thumb and forefinger. "Lotsa blokes stop wonderin' if they're worthy o' anything in these parts. Guess if ya stop wonderin', that's when there's problems." She smiles up at him and presses a kiss to his cheek. "Go, slay your demons. Then come back, but don't go changin' too much, ya boffer. I like ya proper as ya are. Sides, if ya get everything right, what's left for this girl to fix?"
She turns to go, eyes settling in the tea cup and biscuit pastries on the small table. Such delicacies are so out of place in the Fen, but they somehow seem right at the moment. Miranda faces Karl again. "I'll be here waitin', of that have none o' your doubts. So when ya go south n' face this evil, don't think on me, think on your mates n' what's in front o' ya. I won't have me bein' a distraction what gets your head lopped from your shoulders."
Not saying goodbye, she smiles once, hand pressed to the butterfly pendant, then steps confidently and gracefully down the alleyway until the first right turn sends her out of sight.
☀♬♆☦♞♜
Nosatrub Shieldarm
Beckett Foxglove
Karl Marsh
Drogan Anvilsong
Lavios Daleborn
Phedron Rushing
☀♬♆☦♞♜
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows on harbor, the masts of sloops and schooners and brigantines stretch along the gentle waves like spindly fingers. All along the docks longshoremen bend their backs to the task of freight and passenger. Theirs bellows and grunts mix with the creaking of rope and crane and wood.
Two planks connect the Landless Gentry to the sodden timbers of the berth in which she bides her time. Her crew moves to and fro with a practiced efficiency loading cargo, their bare feet flapping and the rich smells of sea and sweat cloying about them just as surely as the air of restrained menace. These men - human and halfling and dwarf and even a single half-orc - to a one, they look equal to the task of labor and combat.
"Step to, Mr. Croaker. We've not the time nor wind to delay our departure!" One of only two female crewmembers strides to the top of the fore plank, her thigh length coat of deep reds and blacks belted close about her form. Her long hair spills over her shoulders like raven's wings, the wind off the harbor setting it to flight. She stabs a finger towards a hulking human wearing pantaloons, shirtless and a soft leather gorget about his neck.
"Aye, Windsinger," the man croaks in return, knuckling his brow while balancing a crate on his left shoulder.
The woman swings a Monmouth cap around and sweeps her hair underneath it. Her turndown boots thump along the plank as she descends, each step in tune with the rise and fall of the brigantine. Her eyes of illuminated amber take in the group of passengers waiting on the dock, assessing each by turn.
"Windsinger," Lt. Olfrey bows slightly, a gesture none in the group have seen from the man. He turns, leg hissing away, and introduces the group. "I present Karl Marsh, armsman from the north and his friend Linkah Merrywater...Drogan Anvilsong, drummer and entertainer and Archivist along with his fellow musician Agidor....Field Squire Nosatrub Shieldarm, in service to the Knights of Ozem...Master Beckett, armsman of Korvosa...Phedron Rushing, horseman and arcanist of Andor...and finally, Lavios Daleborn of Taldor, inquisitor of..."
"Gozreh..." the Windsinger finishes with satisfaction. Her sharp eyes dart from Lavios' eyes to the trident across his back and return. "The Maelstrom smiles from the chaos, boys," She calls over her shoulder. "...we have one of the faithful aboard ships!"
"ON INTO THE STORM, FULL SAIL!" The entirety of the crew returns.
"Windsinger Onura Limnestti," She pulls a glove from her right hand and extends three fingers across her clavicle; the sign of Gozreh. "A pleasure to have you aboard..." Onura says to Lavios. Then she replaces her glove and looks to the others in the group. "So, we set sail now. We make for Ridonport to arrive in two days. Then on south through the Jagged Teeth. I'll expect you lot to pull the ropes and attend the decks...or I'll have Kraken n' Hishem use ya for swabs."
-------------------
------------
Ridonport is a small coastal city located in the empire of Taldor, south of the city of Cassomir. The settlement is best known as the home of General Arnisant, the Taldan Hero responsible for imprisoning the Whispering Tyrant.
The city of Ridonport is located on the Inner Sea coast of Taldor, built on a natural harbor in the region known as the Jagged Saw. Its position lies almost directly south of Cassomir, the only other natural Taldan harbor, and the community supports itself with work from its larger neighbor.
An enormous statue to General Arnisant, hero of the Shining Crusade in the town's main square. Two hundred feet tall and built of solid marble, it is a true testament to the pride the town feels for its most famous son.
Ridenport possesses a limited infrastructure; the primary focus of industry in the community is the support of the Taldan Imperial Navy, which uses the city's harbor to dock a portion of its ships when the port of Cassomir is full.
The coastline between Cassomir and the mouth of theRiver Porthmos is called Jagged Saw. This ragged coastline features rocky cliffs and shallow rock formations. The only natural harbor of the area is atRidonport though a lot of small boat-safe coves can be found along its length. The winds of the Inner Sea rage in this region like vicious beasts, blowing at 30 to 40 miles per hour. To support the ship traffic, Old Taldor built thousands of towering, magically powered lighthouses along the coast, but only a few remain intact.
Originally the brigantine was a sail-and-oar driven warship, used throughout the Inner Sea. It is triangular-sail rigged on two masts and has between eight and twelve oars on each side. Its speed, manoeuvrability and ease of handling makes it a favourite of the Inner Sea pirates. The vessel's class name is derived from the Varisian word brigantino, meaning brigand.
Because of its famed maneuverability, the brigantine is a favorite among the more daring captains who ply the dangerous coastal seas.
Karl moves up the gangplank carrying a violin case and an old looking campaign bag over his shoulder. He greets the Captain politely and with the respect her position is due on the ship.
"Captain Limnestti, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Some exercise and sun will do me good, though I would prefer to let those younger than me take to the rigging. I would hate to rob them of the chance to experience such opportunities. Unless of course, you require me to assist or serve is such capacity. With who should I speak about accommodations?"
Nosa walks to the captain and bow's respectfully.
Nosatrub Shieldarm at your service m'lady.
Show me where I may store my gear and point me in the direction you would like me to help and I will see it done.
Drogan leans to Agidor, "Oh, I think I'm goin' to like her!"
The dwarf bows before the captain, "Drogan Anvilsong, Wayward son a' Highhelm, Teller of stories, singer of dwarven bar songs, and pontificator of all faiths and none of them - at yer service Windsinger. I pray ye find us helpful in any number of ways."
"I wonder if any of these sailors know anything about the tales in the old priest's journals? Never known a sailor whose tongue doesn't flap as fiercely as his sails. Perhaps this Croaker might know a thing or too."
As he stands from his bow, he whispers between his teeth, "While I attempt to get in with the windsinger, perhaps you should see if young master Croaker there would be up for cards and drink in the bunks this evening." Returning to the windsinger "Do you have any requests, Captain?"
☀♬♆☦♞♜
Nosatrub Shieldarm
Beckett Foxglove
Karl Marsh
Drogan Anvilsong
Lavios Daleborn
Phedron Rushing
☀♬♆☦♞♜
To Karl, Onura allows a musical laugh to float into the air between them. "Oh I'll have you all serving in the capacity I see fit, Mister Marsh. Whether it's the crow's nest or the anchor." Her voice is tinged with sweetness and menace in equal parts.
She waves away her smile and points to the deck of the ship addressing all present. "All of your accommodations can be found two decks down, crew's secondary, one hammock to a man. Except for him," Onura points to Lavios. "The sworn of the Stormbringer will have one of the two open single quarters. The other is reserved for a passenger we'll be taking on in Ridonport."
"And you, my brawny Ustalavian," The Windsinger saunters over to Nosatrub and lays a hand on his armored shoulder. "I'll be most pleased to give you all the direction you'll ever need." She laughs and clasps her hands behind her back. "For now assistance at the ropes will suffice for now."
"A spinner o' tales is always welcome, Master Anvilsong. Lt. Olfrey puts your estimate too low if you know enough to offer requests for the Landless Gentry." Onura steps forward and rests a hand on Drogan's shoulder. "You and your...friend with the wandering eyes will be welcome additions since Valryssa threw our last storyteller overboard. I'm sure a tale or two of the old wharf at Riddleport will do the crew nicely."
Agidor grins up towards the top of the gang plank where a slip of a woman leans casually against the ship rail. Her eyes and hair mark her as Tian Xa. Her clothing, soft leathers and breeches and flowing silks mark her as one having passed through Riddleport. A look from her and Agidor busies himself with adjusting his guitar case on his back. But he does nod to Drogan's proposal and heads over to chat with Croaker on his way up the gangway.
Onura waves to the Tian woman by way of introduction. "Velryssa, my chief of procurement while in port. For your first opportunity to earn general keep, I'll have you all escorting her during our stop in Ridonport."
------------------
After the group is acquainted, they're shown aboard the ship. Below decks they find the main crew quarters split with an area for light cargo above the draft line. Below that is the second crew's quarters, a deck with no dividers save the masts to break up the space. There are 10 hammocks open for occupancy, footlockers amended to each.
Once underway, Onura takes the helm and begins a bawdy song to encourage and spur the crew. Despite its lewd nature, the rhythm and tones work their way into the wind at the sails. Even as the crew put oar to sea, the winds are already filling canvas. The Landless Gentry maneuvers away from Cassomir, threading with an alchemist's precision the dangerous rocks and shipwrecks dotting the harbor. Onward she turns to the south with the wind billowing south eastward.
As the sun sets, they way anchor outside outside a cove where the sea abides, giving those aboard time to prepare for the coming day and partake in the imbibing of rum and games of chance. During this time Croaker and some of the crew can be found in the main crew quarters (not the second crew quarters where the pcs are bunked). Anyone is invited for gambling and partaking of songs and spirits.
The adventurers who join, will find Agidor and Linkah involved in a raucous game of Liar's Fives with Croaker and the master-at-arms, Indrik Onyx-eye - so named for the smooth black stone he has in place of his right eye.
------------
Ship
Originally the brigantine was a sail-and-oar driven warship, used throughout the Inner Sea. It is triangular-sail rigged on two masts and has between eight and twelve oars on each side. Its speed, manoeuvrability and ease of handling makes it a favourite of the Inner Sea pirates. The vessel's class name is derived from the Varisian word brigantino, meaning brigand.
Because of its famed maneuverability, the brigantine is a favorite among the more daring captains who ply the dangerous coastal seas.
The Landless Gentry is a brigantine class vessel, 100 feet from stem to stern and clearance for up to 200 tons. She boasts a crew of twenty, enough to man the sails and the sweeps. She is swift and agile and able to handle cargo and passenger; one deck for quarters and two below for cargo.
Crew
■ Onura Limnestti - Windsinger and Captain, her speech and manner mark her as Taldan, but get surname marks get as Varisian. Though only one of two women on board, she is the toughest by far of all the crew. Onura's wit and guile are matched only by the keen edge of the cutlass she wears at her hip.
■ Croaker - Standing at 6 ft plus, Onura's first mate is an imposing figure in form and demeanor. At home laboring over cargo as much as commanding the crew at Onura's direction, Croaker is not above sharing in a drink with the worthy crew of the Landless Gentry. But far and away the most interesting feature of the man is the soft leather gorget he wears about his neck and the manner of speech that most assuredly earned him his namesake.
■ Kraken - A half-orc of prodigies strength and size, Kraken unfortunately was not born with the brains to match. Dull witted and slow to anger, the hulking brute does have a kind nature that belies his orcish ancestry. His gray-green skin is covered along the back and arms with an intricate tap of a raging kraken. To hear it from the crew, the half-orc acquired his name from the years spent wrestling in the pits of Cassomir, the wrinkled cauliflower ears a testament to the story. The tattoo apparently came later.
■ Indrik Onx-eye - He’s a one-eyed, middle-aged sailor and harsh disciplinarian who acts as Onura's master-at-arms. Indrik lost his eye in a barroom brawl eight years ago and hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since. He wears a peculiar talisman about his neck that he fingers absently whenever Onura calls in her magics to guide the ship.
■ Velryssa - She is a willowy-thin female of Tian-Xa descent, her almond eyes full of mystery and is the ship’s best card player. Velryssa is normally tasked with distribution of goods, negotiation with locals on costs, and finding the best places to drink and gamble. The woman moves with a surety and measured grace indicating she knows very well how to use the rapier at her hip.
Rumor has it she still dabbles in the darker corners of her past in order to leverage information for Onura.
Ridonport is a small coastal city located in the empire of Taldor, south of the city of Cassomir. The settlement is best known as the home of General Arnisant, the Taldan Hero responsible for imprisoning the Whispering Tyrant.
The city of Ridonport is located on the Inner Sea coast of Taldor, built on a natural harbor in the region known as the Jagged Saw. Its position lies almost directly south of Cassomir, the only other natural Taldan harbor, and the community supports itself with work from its larger neighbor.
An enormous statue to General Arnisant, hero of the Shining Crusade in the town's main square. Two hundred feet tall and built of solid marble, it is a true testament to the pride the town feels for its most famous son.
Ridenport possesses a limited infrastructure; the primary focus of industry in the community is the support of the Taldan Imperial Navy, which uses the city's harbor to dock a portion of its ships when the port of Cassomir is full.
The coastline between Cassomir and the mouth of theRiver Porthmos is called Jagged Saw. This ragged coastline features rocky cliffs and shallow rock formations. The only natural harbor of the area is atRidonport though a lot of small boat-safe coves can be found along its length. The winds of the Inner Sea rage in this region like vicious beasts, blowing at 30 to 40 miles per hour. To support the ship traffic, Old Taldor built thousands of towering, magically powered lighthouses along the coast, but only a few remain intact.
|
|
... Master Beckett, armsman of Korvosa ...
Beckett stares at the deck and mutters under his breath at the omission of true calling.
Cursed Taldor...
But then focuses his will and calls to mind an image of Cassomir, smoldering in the dawn, an enormous temple Sarenrae... new and gleaming... standing tall in the ashes of the old city.
This spirit calmed, he raises his gaze and smiles at the Windsinger... and blinks his eyes.
As his awareness of his surroundings grow, the Inquisitor focuses squarely at the woman's nose as he speaks, pointedly disregarding her comely features.
"Pleasure is mine, Windsinger."
Everlight, protect me from all temptations. I must double my fast today.
Karl chuckles and smiles, "But of course captain."
Meh, whatever.
Karl finds a hammock and stows his gear. When the younger men gather to play their games of chance he politely declines. He warns Linkah to not lose his shorts. Later he gets out his violin and begins practicing.
Nosa cannot hide the blush that comes to his face at the captains words.
He quickly follows to stow his gear, hoping the others did not notice.
Once below he goes about the business of slowly removing his armor and cleaning it. Veras had always taught him the importance of care of your gear. When finished, now dressed in simple travel clothes, he heads back to the deck, eager to clear his mind and show his strength with some good, hard work at the rigging.
From the crew there us no sense of evil...chaotic and mercenary they may be, but not evil.
Traveling the ship, you're halted at the doors of the cargo decks below the secondary quarters. Beyond the trapdoors leading downward, there is a subtle resonance of darkness, either fading or current, you can't be certain unless you descend into the cargo hold.
But at the trapdoors there is always a member of the crew standing watch. The normal response to queries involves the following; "Captain's orders, none but her n' Velryssa have access ta cargo. Keeps our clients nice n' happy knowin' we ain't muckin' about..."
|
|
"Of course, my good man. I apologize for troubling you. I've never been on such a fine vessel, and I couldn't resist taking a look around."
Beckett leaves to go find Nosa.
Beckett casually walks up to Nosa as the Paladin stores his gear. Beckett whispers:
"I did a survey of the ship. The crew is fine... or at least what would be expected."
"However there is a taint of evil in the cargo hold. It may be something that was there previously... or something that is there now. I couldn't get close enough to tell, and the ladder down is guarded."
Karl plays his violin which at first has a deeper full sound to it. He sings quietly as though singing a lullaby to a small child. His manner looks as though he is trying to practice without disturbing others in this shared space.
Lay down, your sweet and weary head
Night's falling, and we've come to journeys end
Sleep now, and dream of the ones who left before
They are calling from across a distant shore
Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see all of your fears will pass away
Once your Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping
What can you see on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea a pale moon rises
The ships will come to carry me home
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water, all souls pass
Hope fades, into the world of night
Through shadows falling out of memory and time
Don't say, we have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again
And I'll be safe in your arms, just sleeping
What can be seen upon the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea a pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry us home
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water, souls on gray ships pass into the west.
He stops to make a few adjustment and the violin takes on a higher pitched more penetrating sound.
"Isn't it strange how the slightest adjustment in things can cause such differences. Two days ago I was entrenched and comfortable, now I find myself below decks sailing due south to a place I have no desire to be in.
"How about you Nosa? Does it feel liberating to be free of your armor? Or does it feel as though you are a snail removed from its shell, naked and vulnerable?"
"Is it too late to consider getting a Seahawk Master Phedron? Heh heh, I've never bunked with a bird of prey before. Hopefully we can fashion him a perch that will be storm worthy. That bird will be useful out on the sea of dust we are about to find ourselves in after this trip. "
DM
My armor is a part of me. It is almost as if I am taking off my own skin.
I do appreciate the moments where I can remove it. I rarely feel the weight of the steel, though the weight of its meaning is forever there.
I also look forward to the labor above. So much of my life has been training. I enjoy the physical toil.
How about you Master Marsh? Care to test your strength at the rigging with me? Master Beckett?
No offense to you Phedron, but I can see your strength lies in your mind and less so in your arms.
|
*Shopping*
Before leaving, Phedron does purchase 2 cure potions and an explorers outfit, appropriate for the southern climes. Total 100gp
*Aboard the Landless Gentry*
Rocking to the rhythm of the craft, he reads through his spellbook and notes. A dark spirit troubles his soul, as Father Synoptera's tome grins at him from his pack.
"No offense to you Phedron, but I can see your strength lies in your mind and less so in your arms."
Looking at Nosa, he gives a vague "mhmm" Should he read it? How bad could it be? Just studying it could put him in peril?
"Is it too late to consider getting a Seahawk Master Phedron? Heh heh, I've never bunked with a bird of prey before. Hopefully we can fashion him a perch that will be storm worthy. That bird will be useful out on the sea of dust we are about to find ourselves in after this trip. "
He looks up at Caster, perched on the crossbeam above. He nods absently to Karl, his brow furrowed in thought. He decides to bring this to light. Mixing evil things with passage aboard a ship is generally taboo. His uncle's advice returns to him in the presence of the others in their shared space.
As Karl weaves his gentle tune, Phedron stands and presents the journal before the others quietly.
"You all should be aware of this. Father Synoptera provided this should the need be severe. I have been told it provides a means for translating the writings of this cult. However, it also comes with a warning. Some knowledge comes with a price. The darkness within sounds to be maddening. For myself, I don't intend to read unless there is no other option. But should something befall me, everyone should know I carry it."
Karl responds to Nosa
"Heh, if Captian Kraken'locks sends me up the ropes then sure I'll go up. Not that I will necessarily have a choice of what labors she decides to assign me. Meh, I don't like the thought of leaving my blades lying around while I am up there. <sigh> I know my way around ships a bit, but it's been a long time since I've been a rat in the rigging or a crow in the nest. Takes more dexterity than balance actually . . . Phedron will do fine up there. Good training for sword fighting anyway, well at least the kind he's going to need to learn."
"If you are looking for a real work out Nosa, volunteer to man the windlasses. Spend enough time on those and you'll get yourself so over muscled you won't be able to fit back in your armor---or you'll wreck your back---one of the two."
"Heh heh, there will be plenty of opportunity for those looking to push themselves I suspect."
Karl ceases playing with a discordant note when the grimoire is presented to them.
"Not worth the price and far too dangerous until you or the others here are capable of containing or at least lessening the threats contained in that book of recipes for disaster. You'll do what you will, but don't think for a moment that you are carrying around a useful weapon against evil. What you've got there is a roadmap to temptation, corruption and ruin. It's only as useful as one can resist the lure of what lies within and even still you will be changed for it for the worse."
Karl realizes he is emotionally charged and doesn't wish to break the uneasy truce from the incident earlier that morning. He tries to lighten the mood.
"Kinda like the kelp bulbs the captain has affixed to her superstructure and lightly canvased. Heh heh, visible temptations to a corrupt old man's mind that would only lead to ruin and quite likely cost me my rudder. Heh heh."
"I see your red face back there Nosa. Don't worry, Drogan matched you stare for stare, like there was a damn whirlpool affixed to her aft end that threatened to pull your pupils down with the current into the depths of her blouse."
"Old age has its advantages, blunts the Seawitches charms on me, not completely mind you! I'm not dead or blind after all."
"Watch her pet Tian though, she's not as wordy, but just as dangerous as our good captain. I'd be careful once we are underway. We will be watched."
"I don't much like the taking on of passengers in Riddleport, we need to firm up our cover story, gentlemen. Before boredom sets in and the crew gets chatty."
From his perspective, Nosatrub senses something faint, but actively evil. An object most likely for the emanations have not the beating of a heart. It is somewhere in the lower reaches of the cargo hold.
-------------
"Aye, I'd like to have my lyrics down before I sing too." Agidor adds to Karl's whispered advice. He sends a sidelong glance Drogan's way. "Me n' him gotta gambling appointment with Croaker and his mates. Master Anvilsong here thinks he can work some information from 'em." The wily bard's grin says he eager to see Drogan work. But his face takes on a more serious tone as he glances at the cover of Phedron's book. "'Languages in Dreams'... book that breaks the mind, eh? Well, I've seen a song cause a man to tear his own eyes out, suppose a book on languages could do the same. 7 Hells, mates, that's right in time with the lunacy we've seen the passed two days. But I suppose having it with us instead of the baddies gettin' it's better...right?"
Soft feet descending the steps to the secondary crew quarters is all the warning the group has before Linkah appears with a smile all his own. He flips a copper piece Beckett's way and winks. "There's three halflings on board, Master Foxglove. All of 'em n' some o' the crew..." Link stifles a giggle. "Even that big lug Kraken's all followers o' the sun goddess, along with god o' storms. Seems yer in good company with this lot."
Linkah hops up on his hammock and swings back and forth whistling a merrier version of Karl's tune. He stops and points a finger Drogan's way. "And be nice ta Kraken, Mister Dragon-drum. The other halfers say he watches out for the lot of 'em when the boat's a port." He fishes a bit of dried fish from his hip pouch and pops itb into his mouth. "So what's this about a dangerous book then? Didn't in always tell ya, Marshy, readin' rots the mind."
"Wasn't 'er baser features that drew me, Karl. Though, in fairness - for a beardless sailor, she's not hard on the eyes. It's the fire in 'er drew me. I like my women with fire. Reminds me a' home.
Drogan turns his attentions to Linkah, speaking softer, "I've no need to do any harm to Mr. Croaker, an' so I've no intention a' doin' him harm, Linkah. Besides, anyone showing kindness to halfers is good in my book." He tussles the hafling's hair a bit. "And speakin' a books, I know I'm usually one to fancy anything bound as beautiful - but there is nothin' but devilry in that tome. We'll use it if we need to, and not a moment before it if I have any say. Come on then, Agidor. Shall we prepare ourselves to entertain our illustrious halfling mate?"
Linkah giggles and flicks a button he'd managed to pilfer from Outhouse's overalls, the wooden object thumps soundly on the business end of Drogan's dragon drum. "Croaker's a stinky long shanks with a voice like shakin' rocks in a hat. I'm talkin' about Kraken the half-orc." Linkah smirks and snaps his fingers in a rapid rhythm. "What in the world would guys do without me?"
"Right, we treat the half-orc decent, n' treat Croaked to a night o' gamblin' and drinking. Sounds fair." Agidor slings his guitar case over his shoulder and flicks his wrist a deck of cards appears in his hand. "How ya wanna make approach, Master Dwarf? Music then games o' chance?"
------------
Ship
Originally the brigantine was a sail-and-oar driven warship, used throughout the Inner Sea. It is triangular-sail rigged on two masts and has between eight and twelve oars on each side. Its speed, manoeuvrability and ease of handling makes it a favourite of the Inner Sea pirates. The vessel's class name is derived from the Varisian word brigantino, meaning brigand.
Because of its famed maneuverability, the brigantine is a favorite among the more daring captains who ply the dangerous coastal seas.
The Landless Gentry is a brigantine class vessel, 100 feet from stem to stern and clearance for up to 200 tons. She boasts a crew of twenty, enough to man the sails and the sweeps. She is swift and agile and able to handle cargo and passenger; one deck for quarters and two below for cargo.
Crew
■ Onura Limnestti - Windsinger and Captain, her speech and manner mark her as Taldan, but get surname marks get as Varisian. Though only one of two women on board, she is the toughest by far of all the crew. Onura's wit and guile are matched only by the keen edge of the cutlass she wears at her hip.
■ Croaker - Standing at 6 ft plus, Onura's first mate is an imposing figure in form and demeanor. At home laboring over cargo as much as commanding the crew at Onura's direction, Croaker is not above sharing in a drink with the worthy crew of the Landless Gentry. But far and away the most interesting feature of the man is the soft leather gorget he wears about his neck and the manner of speech that most assuredly earned him his namesake.
■ Kraken - A half-orc of prodigies strength and size, Kraken unfortunately was not born with the brains to match. Dull witted and slow to anger, the hulking brute does have a kind nature that belies his orcish ancestry. His gray-green skin is covered along the back and arms with an intricate tap of a raging kraken. To hear it from the crew, the half-orc acquired his name from the years spent wrestling in the pits of Cassomir, the wrinkled cauliflower ears a testament to the story. The tattoo apparently came later.
■ Indrik Onx-eye - He’s a one-eyed, middle-aged sailor and harsh disciplinarian who acts as Onura's master-at-arms. Indrik lost his eye in a barroom brawl eight years ago and hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since. He wears a peculiar talisman about his neck that he fingers absently whenever Onura calls in her magics to guide the ship.
■ Velryssa - She is a willowy-thin female of Tian-Xa descent, her almond eyes full of mystery and is the ship’s best card player. Velryssa is normally tasked with distribution of goods, negotiation with locals on costs, and finding the best places to drink and gamble. The woman moves with a surety and measured grace indicating she knows very well how to use the rapier at her hip.
Rumor has it she still dabbles in the darker corners of her past in order to leverage information for Onura.
"Ah. Well, that one I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best, how's that?"
Drogan pulls out his cards from a pocket. "I believe sailors usually trade in dice - but maybe I can get them to change their game. Either way, I'm sure the evening's activities will be ... productive. And as far as women are concerned, Agidor, I'll kindly ask ya to keep things above board when it comes to the Tian-Xa. I don't know much about 'em save what I've read - but I am WELL versed in what you're like when a pretty girl crosses yer eyes. I need you sharp."
"Croaker's got something more to 'im than he lets on, and who better to get info from than a fellow who plays number two for a living? In my experience, most number twos look to be number one, even if it's just for a moment.
The woman's a mystery, and I don't like mysteries. Best leave the grifts until I know what I'm dealing with.
Indrik seems straight. Anyone living after a wound like that doesn't deal well with useless pleasantries or dalliance. This should be fun."
Karl throws some of his belongings into his foot locker. Frustration comes across in his words and actions.
"All of you had better keep your game above board or you'll wind up sinking to the depths below. . . Is it too much to ask for a simple voyage to the south? Maybe we should have gone overland."
<sigh>
Karl ceases his activities and addresses his diminutive companion.
"The book is a manual of how to understand the un-understandable ways of chaos. Chaos tears the mind because the mind itself is a system. To try to quantify and lay down in writings something that cannot be defined is fruitless. To gain understanding of it is to lose ones self to the void."
"Don't let your curiosity get the best of you Linkah. Touch that book and I'll cut your fingers off and I'd be doing you a favor too."
|
|
Nodding to the reaffirmation of the warnings given to him and even his own thoughts, he tucks the book in his coat. Still, thoughts of it linger.
He listens to Drogan and Agidor fiddle with their instruments.
"You know, it may be worthwhile to inquire of some of the sailors of news from Demgazi. Surely some of them have seen or heard of things from there. Even general news may be of some help." he says, trying to have a plan of action, rather than letting the book tickle his curiosity.
"That's a good point. I think you should go down and at least watch how the games are played. You can learn a lot from watching Agidor, Drogan and Linkah and how they talk to people. Being able to associate with all rungs of society is an important skill. One usually learned through trail and error."
"Keep an eye on him Link."
☀♬♆☦♞♜
Nosatrub Shieldarm
Beckett Foxglove
Karl Marsh
Drogan Anvilsong
Lavios Daleborn
Phedron Rushing
☀♬♆☦♞♜
As the sun sets, the Landless Gentry weighs anchor outside a cove where the sea abides, giving those aboard time to prepare for the coming day and partake in the imbibing of rum and games of chance. During this time Croaker and some of the crew can be found in the main crew quarters (not the second crew quarters where the pcs are bunked). Anyone is invited for gambling and partaking of songs and spirits.
-------
Take a Chance (Gamblers)
Agidor and Linkah are quick to join Drogan as they head below decks to join the crew who are involved in a raucous game of Liar's Fives. Croaker and the master-at-arms, Indrik Onyx-eye - so named for the smooth black stone he has in place of his right eye - are trading barbs while Velryssa faces off with one of the oldest members of the crew called Four-tooth Seamus...for obvious reasons.
"Come now, Seamus, do you think I'd lie to an old man." Velryssa's Tian Xa accent is like silk whispering along the edge of a dagger.
Seamus rubs a grimy hand across his nose, lips smacking over his bare gums. "Ya lie as good as ya smell, Vey. Ya can take that to the bottom...sure, sure..." He stares at her, wipes his nose and let's his finger loiter for a green treasure. "I calls ya a liar, Vey. No more n' 4 fives."
The leather cup in Velryssa's hand comes up, revealing 3 fives and 2 sixes. "Tsk tsk, Seamus. I'd hate for it to get ashore I can't be trusted."
Gold changes hands as Indrik and Croaker lean forward to grab their own cups, the bones within rattling away. It's the latter that first spies Drogan and the others arriving. He waves then over. "New blood, chaps...that'll be good. Vey's on a run, she is." The first mate's voice rasps by way of greeting. To his left is a stack of crates that can be used as seats.
Between the gruff Indrik and the sweet voice of Velryssa, they explain the rules of Liar's Fives, their game of choice.
"So we'll start the game at 1 gold piece?" Velryssa acts as the lead in the round and rattles her dice cup, slamming it down on the driftwood table between them. Croaker and Indrik and Seamus follow suit.
----------
"I call a count of three 5s, gentlemen." Velryssa purrs.
-----------
Croaker simply flashes two fingers and slides a single gold coin into the pot.
-----------
"Likewise, two 5s."
-----------
Seamus scratches his nose and slides 2 gold coins, raising the bet for the round. "Gots four 5s I do, sure sure."
-----------
The four crewmembers look to the newcomers to see who bets next.
Rules
- 5 Dice / 1 Cup per player
- Take the bones, shake them 'round and slam the cup down but hide your results.
- Then you view your own roll on your turn, careful not to allow other players to see the roll
- Minimum ante established by 'dealer'
- Place your bet and call out how many fives or higher you've rolled, this may be the truth or it may be a lie. (roll a Bluff check) 5's and 6's count as fives. If a tie, then 6's will break the tie.
- The bluff check you roll is the target # for other players to hit with a Sense Motive check.
- Each round, you place your bet, and you can alter your bluff; raising or lowering the number of fives you claim to possess
- When there are only two players remaining in the game the two "walk the plank"; a house roll is made in the open.
- Then you reveal you results, whoever of the the players has the most fives wins.
- If it's the house roll, then the pot is carried over to the next game
Typical Round
- 'Dealer' calls ante - 1 gold
- All players rattle their cups and slam them down
- OOC - Each player rolls a Bluff Check in the open. In the same post they make a 5d6 roll within a spoiler. Lastly, they roll a Sense Motive check also in the spoiler.
》 (in open)
》 (in spoiler)
》 (in spoiler)
》Place your bets
- If as a player, your Sense motive check (made in spoiler) beats another player's Bluff check (made in open), you can peer under their spoiler and call them out. If not you leave the spoiler alone and have to guess. Maybe you'll get lucky?
- Choose to stay in the game or jump overboard (fold)
- Next round you can reroll your Bluff (open] / Sense Motive (spoiler) then place your bets or call out opponents
- Rounds continue until one player remains
Ship
Originally the brigantine was a sail-and-oar driven warship, used throughout the Inner Sea. It is triangular-sail rigged on two masts and has between eight and twelve oars on each side. Its speed, manoeuvrability and ease of handling makes it a favourite of the Inner Sea pirates. The vessel's class name is derived from the Varisian word brigantino, meaning brigand.
Because of its famed maneuverability, the brigantine is a favorite among the more daring captains who ply the dangerous coastal seas.
The Landless Gentry is a brigantine class vessel, 100 feet from stem to stern and clearance for up to 200 tons. She boasts a crew of twenty, enough to man the sails and the sweeps. She is swift and agile and able to handle cargo and passenger; one deck for quarters and two below for cargo.
Crew
■ Onura Limnestti - Windsinger and Captain, her speech and manner mark her as Taldan, but get surname marks get as Varisian. Though only one of two women on board, she is the toughest by far of all the crew. Onura's wit and guile are matched only by the keen edge of the cutlass she wears at her hip.
■ Croaker - Standing at 6 ft plus, Onura's first mate is an imposing figure in form and demeanor. At home laboring over cargo as much as commanding the crew at Onura's direction, Croaker is not above sharing in a drink with the worthy crew of the Landless Gentry. But far and away the most interesting feature of the man is the soft leather gorget he wears about his neck and the manner of speech that most assuredly earned him his namesake.
■ Kraken - A half-orc of prodigies strength and size, Kraken unfortunately was not born with the brains to match. Dull witted and slow to anger, the hulking brute does have a kind nature that belies his orcish ancestry. His gray-green skin is covered along the back and arms with an intricate tap of a raging kraken. To hear it from the crew, the half-orc acquired his name from the years spent wrestling in the pits of Cassomir, the wrinkled cauliflower ears a testament to the story. The tattoo apparently came later.
■ Indrik Onx-eye - He’s a one-eyed, middle-aged sailor and harsh disciplinarian who acts as Onura's master-at-arms. Indrik lost his eye in a barroom brawl eight years ago and hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since. He wears a peculiar talisman about his neck that he fingers absently whenever Onura calls in her magics to guide the ship.
■ Velryssa - She is a willowy-thin female of Tian-Xa descent, her almond eyes full of mystery and is the ship’s best card player. Velryssa is normally tasked with distribution of goods, negotiation with locals on costs, and finding the best places to drink and gamble. The woman moves with a surety and measured grace indicating she knows very well how to use the rapier at her hip.
Rumor has it she still dabbles in the darker corners of her past in order to leverage information for Onura.
☀♬♆☦♞♜
Nosatrub Shieldarm
Beckett Foxglove
Karl Marsh
Drogan Anvilsong
Lavios Daleborn
Phedron Rushing
☀♬♆☦♞♜
On Deck (Night Watch)
As those going to the crew quarters depart, one of the deck hands descends the ladder to speak with those remaining. He's young fellow, human and level of demeanor. "All those available, ya got no sleep in ya, head topside. Captain's interested in settin' a watch." He doesn't pause and returns to the ladder and upwards.
Those who heed the call are greeted to a cool evening and the winking of stars as low, black clouds glide above them. On the aft castle, working the wheel next to her dwarven navigator named Gruhn, Windsinger Onura Limnesti awaits.
"Good evening, gents. I've need of a watch." She points fore and aft and to the mizzen mast. " Maintain the lanterns on the bow n' the aft castle here. Then one to join Albert in the crow's nest."
--------------
"Well, I'm sure such a fine bunch as the crew a' the Brigantine would ne'er tell a lie that wasn' worth tellin' anyway," He says, dropping a bit of his performer's diction, "An' I'm sure a showman and highway wand'rer such as myself stands no chance. However,"[/b] - he puts his coin down on the table to buy into the game and slings dice
"Beg pardon, Master Seamus - but I'd eat mah own beard yoo 'ave four 5s. However, ya've still probably got more than my measly two, so I'll save my coin fer the next round an' thank the winner fer takin' mah money.
Nosa leans down close to Marsh and whispers in his ear
Karl
He then sets off to the top of the ship. Wanting to get the full experience, he climbs the ropes and heads to Albert in the crow's nest.
Did something follow me here?! There's no where to go! I'm trapped on a ship. They had eyes everywhere. At every level of government. They would know where we were going and how.
Karl whispers back.
"Of course, I am always thus, now someone has to go up top and stand watch so you boys can throw the bones."
[spoilr=DM Screen]
[/spoier]
♬♞
Drogan Anvilsong
Phedron Rushing
♬♞
"Alright, lads n' lasses, I'm lookin' good, even if I only have three fives..." Agidor flashes his trademark grin and proceeds to hum a refrain of My Lazy Eyes o' Wanderin' as he tosses two gold coins into the pot.
-----------
Linkah hums along to the tune and even offers a few of the lyrics.
"And the only time's me eyes did settle,
t'was upon the dancin' hips o' Ms. Petal..."
Tongue sticking out as he peers carefully under the upended dice cup, Link giggles. "Is it 5s n' 6s I wants? If that's so, we've only got the two." His left hand deftly waggles its little fingers and a pair of gold coins appear. Link puts them in the pot.
Before leaving to head to the crows nest.
dm
Earlier, still in quarters...
Nosa looks upon the black leather volume, the gold lettering standing out in the dimly lit confines of their quarters. The cover is old, areas of it worn smooth by the oils of the hands of those who'd possessed it in the past. Below the lettering, still in that thread-of-gold material, a stylized rose. This captures Nosa's eye for a moment. Though not an artist, the paladin of Ustalav knows the craftsmanship it would take to create it.
Languages in Dreams
Of the tomes Nosatrub had been exposed to in his youth, all had been given a title along with an author. Even the codex of his faith was given the authorship of those who'd followed blessed Iomedae. But this one is curiously lacking.
Nosatrub takes in a breath and prays to his goddess, opening up the senses blessed to him by his faith in her justice. He closes his eyes and focuses on the book, what Phedron had termed as a linguist's tome. Nosa feels his middle grow cold, a vast emptiness spiraling around him...calling to him...
-------within the black------
He is on the edge of a small village south of Lastwall, Rendev's Hollow it was called. Next to him is Ulic the Blunt who'd earned the nickname among the companions for his few words. Most of his speech came at the end of a mace.
Ulic stands, silent as always, shield in hand and his mace at the ready. Nosatrub, 6 months after his first engagement, is standing next to him. The latter is shaking but doing all he can to stop it. Fear flows through him like rivers of ice.
Rendev's Hollow is burning. The rest of the knightly contingent is on the hunt. Earlier in the night, they'd arrived to find it overrun by ghouls bent upon the destruction of the village and imprisonment of the inhabitants.
Nosatrub had been the first to see it. The slick, bald pate and elongated ears...the horrific fingers too long for a human that ended in claws. The young warrior had experience with the undead, the unlit eyes of automatons who's only path in life was hunger, mindless hunger.
But the thing before him, its eyes gleamed with intelligence. It saw Nosatrub...it saw him. And the realization had chilled him to the bone.
------------
Nosatrub returns from memory, that same ice-cold feeling in his veins as his eyes settled upon the book once more. In his bones, he detects no evil...there is nothing . The empty, endless void stretching out before him. But in the distance...far off where neither eyes nor ears can perceive, Nosatrub swears that the emptiness can see him.
"We are going to watch, wait and observe. We will learn, probe and analyze. when we know what it is we are up against we may act or take appropriate action, but not before then. There is nowhere to retreat here. We are seemingly a few against a large host whose loyalties are as of yet unknown. No brash behavior. We need to proceed cautiously."
--————————————————
Karl walks quietly about the deck getting a feel for the timbers under his feet and to become accustomed with the way The Landless Gentry rode beneath them. The lamp was currently flush with oil not needing service. Karl's mind was preoccupied with thoughts of voyages past.
Returning to the present he reached out with his senses. The sea and those that made their living from it were always a unpredictable bunch. Karl knew he needed to remain focused to the dangers both on and off this ship.
The beautiful sea captain stood at the helm master and commander of her ship and crew. Karl studied the wind, sky and ocean to see if Mother Nature gave any hint as to the seas ahead.
Karl studied the captain and the mostly human crew as well. Nosa and Beckets words still on his mind.
"Have you always plied these waters captain?"
☀♆☦♜
Nosatrub Shieldarm
Beckett Foxglove
Karl Marsh
Lavios Daleborn
☀♆☦♜
At her ease, the Landless Gentry makes little noise. The cove in which Onura had secured the vessel provides shelter from the rolling waters making their way south to the Inner Sea. With the moon half veiled by cloud, the stone outcroppings forming the cove loom like black leviathan around her. Karl walks the decks and feels the brigantine's timbers beneath him. She's alive with creaks and groans, but the sounds are like a longing tune for the open seas. The Landless is meant for action not anchor.
Those still atop ships are few, numbering equal to Karl and his comrades. A lithe human with a missing right ear named Albert awaits Nosa in the crow's nest. Towards the bow, Kraken coils the ropes on the fore mast, a fly buzzers around one of his cauliflower ears, remnants of his days wrestling in the pits of Cassomir. He swipes at it slowly, a strangely amused look on the half-orc's face.
At the base of the aft castle, the Dwarven navigator, Gruhn Brassfitted, mutters to himself in dwarfish as he collects a set of charts and slips them into an oiled scroll case. He nods to Karl as he passes then goes back to sealing up the charts.
The old warrior's footsteps return him to the aft castle steps and up to the wheel where Onura studies one of her charts by the light of a lantern. From the higher vantage he feels the breeze on his face, the hint of humidity that promises a thick marine layer and fog on the morrow.
The Windsinger looks up briefly at Karl's interrogative them returns to her chart. "The old shark-road has carried me far and true, mister Marsh. I've bartered with the Raiders of the north and drank my fill of business in Riddleport. Spent time in the endless sands of Katapesh, when my crew took sick." She draws two waveforms from a series of coastal currents towards the northeast. Laying her materials aside, a handful of sand goes over her work to dry the ink. She reaches over and takes up her hat, sweeping her hair under it. In the brief moment, Karl notes the tell-tale points of elvish ancestry. A half-elf.
On cue, Gruhn stomps up the stairs. "Be all, Captain?"
"Aye, mister Gruhn. I think the waters will be playful tomorrow. Better see to it Kraken n' the boys are ready. Get that lummox to the hammock for his rest."
Gruhn knuckles his brow and proceeds to gather the remaining chart for the scroll case. Then he departs to collect Kraken.
"I find the trades along Cassomir to my liking. All the fun the Stormbringer can muster and a good ship to make a living." Onura lays a hand on the basket-hilt rapier at her hip. "Olfrey says I'm getting you to Golsifar. Not much but cargo goes there unless intending to guard the caravans eastward or military to the border forts. You lot don't smell of the Phalanx, so mercenaries I wager..." She glances upwards to where the paladin is perched with Albert. "... mercenaries with a cause."
She focuses back on Karl, a level look of warning in her features. "Whatever your game, I've got a livelihood to maintain. I won't have you n" yours draggin' my anchor through a kelp bed. Especially in Riddonport, I've..."
Karl turns, a second before she does. He'd spent the last few minutes acclimating to the sounds of the ship. That's why the new noise draws his attention. Onura looks too.
Thump...slosh...thump
Karl eases his breathing and listens more closely.
Thump...slosh...thump
From the port side, something is bumping alongside the hull of the ship.
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Beckett curses under his breath and tightens his grip on the ships railing... visions of flame crowding his thoughts.
With an effort of will, he takes several deep breaths in an effort to calm his mind. Then he discreetly look about, trying to gain a fresh perspective of the situation...
"I am an Inquisitor of the Dawn. I WILL know the truth! Judgement will be rendered!"
As his eyes fall over the crew and the ship, his training with the Korvosan Guard returning, almost as if my instinct, analyzing how to survive the environment, should the worst comes to pass.
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Nosatrub Shieldarm
Beckett Foxglove
Karl Marsh
Lavios Daleborn
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The Inquisitor grips the railing of the ship and seeks the calmer waters of his turbulent soul. He retake his mind to surveying the crew in the peripheral of his vision. One of the first lessons of the Inquisition involved the ability to observe others without them feeling the weight of his attention. Beckett put it to good use as he finds the crew about their business.
Towards the front mast, the dull-witted half-orc Kraken is finishing up his work with the heavy ropes and heckling that the foresail is secure. He lazily swats at a fly buzzing by his misshapen, cauliflower ear. He scratches at it causing the lobe to bend forward as a beam of lantern light illuminates the grey-green flesh. Beckett's eye narrows as he spies the faded tattoo of an angelic ankh. It's an ancient version of it, but a symbol of Sarenrae just the same.
Kraken chuckles in low tones as he manages to capture the buzzing fly in his hands. But instead of smashing it, he release the pest when a passing wind lifts. He watches it get carried away then notices Beckett watching him. He smiles dimly and nods respect. Although slow of thought, Beckett gets the sense that Kraken has excellent instincts.
Above his head, the full height of the mizzen, Nosa and Albert overlook the area from the crow's nest. The lanky crewman is missing one of his ears, the flesh beneath calloused over marking the wound as an old one. But his eyes are as sharp as Phedron's hawk's. A good reason to have him as a spotter.
Karl strides past him and heads for the aft castle. There, Gruhn Brassfitted - the ship's navigator - is busy placing several charts inside a scroll case. Earlier he'd been working with Onura on plotting their course to Riddonport. What Beckett knew of the seas, the two were more than competent.
As for survival should things go wrong on the brigantine, it would be difficult going. The cove in which Onura has them anchored is calm enough. But out in the open waters survival overboard would be an extreme effort. Best to find something good that floats and get on top of it. The churning waters that lead to the Inner Sea are rife with sharks and worse. Thought the environment was humid and above 70°, the waters would like as not be a threat as dangerous as the creatures. Cold would be the enemy too. Them there would be the exhaustion of treading water should nothing floating be available...
... "oh my little Foxglove...such sights I have to show you...the things we'll do together..."
Beckett snaps away from the memory, the ship rail under his iron grip reverberates. Then his ears catch up with the feeling.
Thump...slosh...thump
He scans the seas to port. The black monoliths of the stone outcroppings making up the cove loom large.
Thump...slosh...thump
Closer, something running up against the ship. Beckett looks over the side, the black of the sea below given some light by the veiled moon and the scattering of shipboard lanterns. He sees it...a shape on the water right alongside. A shaft of moonlight passes over the shape...
A man, clinging to a plank of wood where the end is shattered. Beckett focuses even as the shaft of moonlight passes on. Amid the sloshing of water there is a dull groan coming from the figure below.
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Beckett takes in the sights... the sounds... the smells...
It floods over him...
"Yes... This is what I was born for... The Inquisition... The curse does not yet hold sway..."
He smiles, and closes his eyes... awash in information...
Then his face falls... he grasps the sides of his head, pressing his hat into the sides of his face.
"No... I see nothing of you! We do nothing together! I'll fight you with my last breath!"
Urrrgg...
Beckett groans as he grips the rails... his eyes falling to the waters below.
"Is he real? How can I know? I see so much... Is it all real? Some of it real here... but some of it real... somewhere else?"
He places his head on the railing.
"Or am I just mad? Another insane shoot from the line of Foxglove..."
Beckett looks up to the crow's nest.
"If he is real, how could Albert not see him? With his keen eyes?"
The Inqusitor shakes his head, trying to regain his clairity... and his eyes fall on the Paladin.
"Nosa! Nosa will know."
Beckett blinks once, looking below, then he heads to the base of the crows nest, waving his arms at the Paladin.
Nosa, glad to be out in the open air ascends the ropes to the crows nest. Once there, he bows his head respectfully to Albert and introduces himself. He takes position in the crows nest and steadies himself, his feet still adjusting to the rhythmic sway of the ship. He closes his eyes for a moment and whispers a brief prayer.
Lady you have guided me here. It is your will that I am here today, with these people. I do not know how this fits into your plan for my life and duty, but your will be done. Keep my eyes open, my wits sharp, and my shield arm ready to protect.
He raises his eyes and looks about him, scanning the ship.
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Drogan Anvilsong
Phedron Rushing
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"If he sings as well as he hums, I think I might keep him around..." Velryssa says softly in Agidor's direction. She slips two of her fingers into a pouch on the table next to her and withdraws three gold pieces. "But I'm willing to bet he doesn't have the skills to sing his way out of and lie." She raises the stakes and nods to Drogan then points to Seamus. "In all my travels, I've never seen a dwarf way his own beard. But I've got to agree with our newly arrived storyteller that Seamus is lucky if he's got one 5."
"Ya always full o' lies, ya old codger," Croaker gravels. "But ya keep our pouches full o' yer gold." The first mate matches Agidor Velryssa's raise.
Indrik wrinkles his lip and narrows his good eye at Croaker. "I'll see ya to the plank, Mr Croaker." Three gold coins are added to the pot.
Seamus smacks his mouth, the grotesquely slobberish cacophony enough to earn a sneer from the woman. But even draws his cup back and glares at the other players. "I'm ow, ya bunch o' turtle humpers..."
Agidor tosses in the matching bet with a coin and smiles shamelessly. "Oh my dear, you'd be surprised what this strummer can sing his way out of."
"Hee hee more gold for me..." Linkah adds his bet and fidgets in his chair. "I can't wait to see all that gold in my tiny little hands." Judging by his open face it seems Linkah may have played this game a time or two while in service on his prior vessel.
"So, Mister Drogan," Velryssa begins as she surveys the table. "Since you await the outcome of this affair, what say you and the quiet half-elf in the corner entertain us with the why's of your voyage. Not many choose to go to Golsifar, it's a way station really." She draws her index finger, tipped with a long lacquered nail along the table like she's tracing a map. "So the question is, where are you and your band on the way to?"