"Lemme take a poke at those. Magic items are something of a specialty for me."
"Struggle against Kyber, you say? That's basically every religion. Kyber is the underworld, legend states that it is composed of a literal evil dragon's corpse. It creates boogeymen of all descriptions."
Rehil helps scoop up the loot, but he's not really enthusiastic. He's got bigger issues on his mind.
Tal does a slow spin to cover the entire underwater building with detect magic, just in case anything got moved around by the previous owner accidentally. Then begins swimming up again, following the ropes dropped to lift the salvage up.
The group return to the surface and clamber back into the boat. They stow their haul and the boat sets off once more downstream. Bokehn leans on the rail.
"We should be fine to meet up with the airship at the rendezvous tomorrow afternoon."
The boat speeds across the lake and into the river proper as it heads into the gorge through the hills, the small birdlike pterosaurs flitting overhead. It is a relief, and a slightly strange feeling, to think that finally they will return to civilization and leave the jungle behind. Along with all those who died along the way.
The sky is bright and the sun hot. The rainclouds seem to be banished as the rainy season draws to a close, but the river is still high. The boat makes rapid progress, aided by the current.
Tal will aclimate himself to any magic items they ask him to use.
If Tal has free spells at the end of the day, he'll offer to help recharge the staff if needed.
It is a relief, and a slightly strange feeling, to think that finally they will return to civilization and leave the jungle behind.
Although for the cold sun it is less a relief than a feeling of impending adventure.
Rehil finds a shaded spot by the rail. He lounges there, while going over his gear. He pays special attention to the elven curve blade, slowly honing it and removing any trace of rust.
Wultram exerts himself by engaging the half-orcs in conversation. They are friendly enough, but give little away, talking about House Tharashk when asked.
Night falls swiftly, and the boat ties up by some boulders by the side of the rivers. The adventurers are not required to keep watch, with the Tharashk troops doing the job instead with their darkvision.
The night is uneventful and the boat sets off at dawn. They towering ruins the group encountered on the way up mid-morning, and by the early afternoon they are back at the prospecting station, Camp Vinor. Amid the squalor, tied up and hovering above the dock, looms an airship.
"Now THAT is a sight for sore eyes."
Cole is quiet on the trip downriver. At one point, though, he catches Nalverren fiddling with some of his gear, and curiosity overwhelms him. He ka-thunks across the deck to loom over the human, then stoops down closer, watching the human’s hands work.
“You are trained to tinker with magics,” the big ‘forged monotones, then looks up into Nalverren’s eyes. “In training, we had a squad of artificer units who accompanied us who did similar work. Are you like them?” He cocks his head to one side, a wry tone entering his low voice, “If so, could I convince you to learn to work on warforged? I’m learning I’m only okay at keeping myself functional during extended combat situations.”
"I suppose I am. Though I imagine your squads were Cannith, whereas I am not. As for working on you, I have a basic understanding of how your matrix works. The lines of magical energy inside you. You get stabbed, a line might get disrupted or broken. Fix that line, and you feel better. Fortify that line when it is good, you feel stronger. Heartier. You get the idea."
Nalverren looks at the armor they had recently picked up, turning it over in his hands.
"You are not so unlike this armor, minus the animate energy that makes you you. I can certainly repair you when you are damaged. That said, you know I tend not to be near the front lines. You may have to back off of the enemy to get repaired if the lines of battle preclude me from approaching." Nalverren chuckles. "At least until I can figure out how to repair you at range!"
Ashshar has been silent during the travel down the river. The last weeks had been a constant surprise after the other, and the idea that he had an important role to play on the world's destiny was too huge to swallow it at once.
And then there were the airships. Having seen them once, being so close to one made his scales shiver.
The lizardfolk walked close to Vaard and commented "If the humansss can build thesse marvelouss thingsss... learning from then can sssave our people." with hope filling his words.
Cole nods along to Nalverren's thoughts, even about his similarities to armor. "I do not ask you to stand near me in battle. Your talents have been invaluable, and I wouldn't change that. I'm just glad there is someone in this group who can put me back together should things go really sideways." He pats the artificer on the shoulder, "And let me know if there is anything I can do in return."
"You're already doing your part in spades."
Boarding the airship is via a rope ladder dropped over the side. The half-orc soldiers follow the adventurers up, as does Bokehn. The captain, a rangy, flinty-eyed human woman with close-cropped grey hair and leathery brown skin, strolls over to greet him.
"Captain Moss, nice to see you again," says Bokehn.
"You too, Bokehn. So this is the cargo, huh?" She runs here eyes over the adventurers where they stand on deck, then turns back to Bokehn. "They can bunk up in the forward hold. I take it time is of the essence?"
"It is," replies Bokehn.
"Fine. We'll be gone within the hour." She turns and begins yelling order to the crew.
Tal has a slightly easier time climbing up the ladder in his armor than most might expect, given the extra two arms he has for climbing.
Once on board the ship, he lightly taps his boot against the deck, testing it's stability. "Impressive. I'd still rather ride a dragon..." Considering how well his last trip in the air ended, he isn't really thrilled with taking to the air again.
"As long as you aren't carrying a keg of Vasanti Sauce in your back pack, you're not in much danger of a dragon eating you. However, if you do have Vasanti Sauce on you, avoid dragons. They love it." Tal intones solemnly, then hisses in laughter. "Meddle not in the affairs of Dragons, young one, for thou art crunchy and taste good in Vasanti Sauce." He further intones between hisses of laughter.
"Hmm, seems like you could really weaponize that with the proper tools. A launcher or pump of some sort to propel the sauce at one's foes..."
The hold is far from luxurious, but it is a reasonably safe place to relax. There is room for them to lay out their bedrolls, and by the time the ship casts off they are well ensconced. The ship turns neatly as it rises to the shouts of the children below, climbing above the level of the treetops and sending birds and pterosaurs scattering and squawking. It then set a westwards course, flying into the blood-red orb of the sun as it sinks below the haze of the distant horizon.
Cole is too curious to turn in as the ship sets out. Instead of retiring to their allotted spot, he tries to find a spot on the deck where the air-sailors don't seem to need and simply watches. The sky, the stars, and the rhythms of the ship and her workers ... the warforged seems to find it all fascinating.
So he pulls his tools out in his little stolen corner and begins to work on himself, an odd yellow stone catching the light as he works.
But Cole seems too curious about the ship and her crew to get any real repair-work done.
Curious as to what all the ruckus is that is disturbing the otherwise refreshing breeze, Nalverren tracks the noise down to Col attempting to work on himself.
"Well, I wouldn't want you to get out of practice or anything, but you really ought to let me help out with that." He smiles. Reaching deep into his satchel, he pulls out a small brace of tools, unrolls it, and dumps it out onto the deck. Before they hit the ground, he utters a work and they begin to hover slowly toward the warforged.
"They'll fix you right up. It won't be quiet, so you'll want to stay downwind of anyone you don't want to annoy."
Nalverren then finds a place relatively quiet and sheltered from the winds of their travel and starts to study the strange skull bombs, as they are the item most beneficial to remove from their vicinity.
Rehil quickly stows his gear in the hold, merely dropping his pack and bow and arrow, then even more quickly returns to the deck to witness the take off. He leans over the rail watching the ground recede and grins wildly at anyone nearby while the ship gains altitude.
As the airship begins it's turn to the west, he frowns. He waits a few minutes before approaching Bokehn.
"Da'Sheth. You said that we could view it before going to civilized lands."
Cole turns from his seated position and nods to Nalverren. "It is most appreciated, Master Crafter." He sits back, obviously luxuriating in the arcane ministrations of Nalverren's work.
From here, he follows the work on deck—as well as Rehil's conversation—as best he can.
"Did I?" says Bokehn coldly. "This isn't a pleasure cruise, and we have business to attend to. Da'sheth isn't going anywhere in a hurry. And my employers wish to meet you. They are paying for the airship, so I guess what they want goes. Maybe you can talk them into a trip to Da'sheth when you meet them."
The sun sinks in the distance and stars begin to glitter in the darkening sky. The humid air is still but the air elemental whispering in its containment ring draws a welcome breeze across the deck, although the tranquil scene is ruined somewhat by the clattering of the magical servitor tending to Cole. The crew are a taciturn lot, going about their business without engaging with the passengers. A few of the half-orcs sit about on deck, growling at each other in Orcish as they roll dice. The helmsman gently tugs the ship's wheel, lost in communion with the elemental.
Eventually tiredness overcomes the (non-warforged) adventurers, and they turn in for the night. They awaken to pink dawn sunlight filtering through the door to the compartment. The air also feels cold and fresher, the ship shaking slightly to buffeting breezes.
On deck, Bokehn gazes at the view while chewing on a large sausage. The ship flies between the rocky barren slopes of a mountain range capped with snow.
"Did I?" says Bokehn coldly. "This isn't a pleasure cruise, and we have business to attend to. Da'sheth isn't going anywhere in a hurry. And my employers wish to meet you. They are paying for the airship, so I guess what they want goes. Maybe you can talk them into a trip to Da'sheth when you meet them."
...
"A day's delay meeting your masters against the fate of nations? And even if we're all mad, you'd be wiser to humor us."
An openly angry Rehil stalks off in search of Cole, Nalverren, and Wultram. He at least has the intelligence to keep his voice low and hold the conversation away from the orc guards and crew. TO each, singly or as a group as he finds them, he says,
"I don't like it. I don't trust Bokehn. We should seize the ship and turn for Da'Sheth. Then to Korranberg or Sharn for Wultram's and Nalverren's researches."
****
Rehil adds to bolster his argument to his companions, "We're headed northwest. Sharn and Zilargo are on the south coast."
Ashshar stalks Rehil, wary of his anger and ready to dwfend him. While not part of the original 'crew', the lizardfolk has a true debt to pay to them.
The lizardfolk keeps his distance from the group as Rehil speaks, though he pays attention to the conversation, and only after thtthatey finish that he chimes in speaking in barely a whisper "I... I don't know ass much ass you of Bokhen or hiss motivess. Honesstly, your culture and all of thiss sseemsss to me ass ssstrange ass a fisssh flying." the lizardfolk pauses to look at Cole "But you helped my people even when your livess where at rissk and I will follow you to death if need be."
...
"With that said. I would like to know what has you angry enough to consider throat cutting?"
Rehil shakes his head. "Not throat cutting. Ship taking. We do it without bloodshed. The pilot stays alive, and we return the ship when we don't need it anymore.
"Bokehn said we could see Da'Sheth. We need to see what remains, what needs to be protected.
"You and Nalverren need to research at Sharn or Korranberg. That should be a west or southwest course, yet we fly north west. We will end up in the Mournlands, or Thrane, or Aundair."
Nalverren waited for the others to answer before giving his.
"Count me out on the throat-cutting. We don't have the magic to take everyone down peacefully, especially not without me, and I won't go against them just yet."
...profession canooeist1d20+8
Nalverren waited for the others to answer before giving his.
"Count me out on the throat-cutting. We don't have the magic to take everyone down peacefully, especially not without me, and I won't go against them just yet."
** spoiler omitted **
"No throat cutting! We cosh a few and hold Bokehn at knifepoint. "
Aside later to Ashshar. "Thanks. At least you were behind me."