Taissa apologised to Amurath Kahn for the worg pup's antics in the bath.
"White Fang is young and excitable. He meant no harm. He is still learning. Thank you for your patience."
To the pup she simply instructs, "Sit, dry off and behave. Do not enter the bath, again. I will not be much longer."
Turning the conversation back to the Undead creatures, Taissa continued, summarising their host's information.
"So, if this disease spreads to the north, we cure individuals both of disease and ravages of disease. For larger groups we separate them far from the healthy, leave them to starve and wither or set them alight and let them burn. And do not get bitten or clawed, where blood can be transferred. Noted, Amurath Khan."
She lifted her long, copper hair and rubbed some of the exotic oils into the strands to detangle and soften the hair. Taissa did not bathe all that often but when she did, she enjoyed properly cleaning herself. She had been oblivious to any eyes on her as she soaked in the hot water.
To her travelling companions, she quietly supposed, "Could this disease have been brought about by the dark cultists and their ancient relics? I wonder if they hope to create an army of these Undead like they attempted with the Worgs back on the island."
Once there she also, surreptitiously, tries to show Taissa the mark she'd noticed earlier on the Captain's weapon hilt.
Taissa had noticed Melthune's attempt at showing her the mark, and her eyes caught sight of the weapon on the table, with the small glyph on the hilt. Yet, Taissa did not understand the significance of the mark and would wait until they had some privacy so as to ask Melthune directly or one of the others with more knowledge on such matters.
As Hack relaxed in the tub, he could not help but notice his companions doing the same. This was a good respite for them, but he was eager to return to Beacon and start the tasks that he set forth to accomplish.
His eyes drifted to Polux and Tai.
In them I have found true boon companions. Tai certainly is a beauty that I normally do not notice as such, and her animal companions are useful and have distinct personalities. Polux is a solid, stand-up friend that I can certainly trust in a pinch. I trust them both implicitly.
Melthune, also very attractive in her own way, and she is beginning to grow on me. Stefan, for all of his proper bearing, can also be trusted. He is also quite useful in a fight.
Jenner should be a welcome addition in the event that he follows through with joining the group. While we desparately need the healing touch of someone in combat, he does not appear to carry the baggage of a zealot for his beliefs.
Hack raises his beer,
Thank you for the bath and the welcome you have given us all. I would like to toast my companions on comin' out alive on this trip so far south. The tales you tell of the illness-ridden people are words that we all should take heed of. I, for one, am becoming too wrinkled after such a soak. Skol!
Hack chugs the beer, and rises out of the tub. He begins to gather his weapons and other items.
Where may I retire for som shut-eye, sir?
Watching Hack rise from the bath, the water sliding off his muscular physique, Taissa lifted her tea cup and toasted him in return before placing it back down on the mosaic-tiled ledge.
Squeezing the excess water from her hair, Taissa ran the cloth covered in the exotic oil along and across her body for she too was almost done with her bath and would soon stand and dress in the linen robe provided by Amaruth Khan.
"Amurath Khan, do you have weapons we could purchase to aid us in despatching these Undead creatures? I have some slow-burning arrows but only eight remain now. I used two on some Undead creatures we fought back on Amun-ta's family's estate. I believe more would be useful or something similar." Taissa looked over at the priestess, hoping her words had not saddened or upset the woman anew.
Taissa rose from the hot water and almost shook herself but realised she was not in the wilderness with just her animals but in a foreign nobleman's home. She stood on the woven mat by the bath and let the water drip from her body -- the heat of the bath still moving along her fair, flushed skin. She lifted the Osirion robe and covered herself before taking a seat and gently wringing out her hair as she waited to hear from the warrior or one of her own companions.
The company continues to lounge for a bit, then Hack gets up.
Where may I retire for som shut-eye, sir?
Khan glances at Hack.
”One of my men will take you to a place to retire; though it is still early. Still, after a meal and a bath, sometimes rest is good,” he says.
One of the servants takes you down a long hall. There are small rooms on the left side (roughly 15 feet square). There is a bed that would be considered “twin size” and a small dresser with chamber pot and a moveable screen. Finally there is a plate with small figs and raisins on it and a pitcher with fresh water (all the utensils are bronze).
As he leaves Taissa is dries herself and looks at Khan.
"Amurath Khan, do you have weapons we could purchase to aid us in despatching these Undead creatures? I have some slow-burning arrows but only eight remain now. I used two on some Undead creatures we fought back on Amun-ta's family's estate. I believe more would be useful or something similar."
He smiles.
”Of course; from what my people told me your ship is rounding the bay and you have goods to trade? I shall make it a point to trade with you; weapons are plenty here,” he says to her.
Taissa looked over at the priestess, hoping her words had not saddened or upset the woman anew.
Amun-ta does not seem to be very focused on her family right now; whether or not she has accepted it or is more concerned with what she will do next with the ship rounding the coast she does not say, though.
Amurath gets out of the bath and steps into fresh clothes and Amun-ta does so as well.
He looks at the others.
”Please take time to feel at peace. When your pilot brings his ship around I will send people to meet with him. Then you will do what you need to before you begin your voyage home,” he adds.
Polux listens quietly to the exchange of information and details while absent mindedly sipping from his drink.
"I am confused" - he starts - "I am not a man of the cloth, and not particularly religious or knowlegeable in the ways of sickness, but some things are confusing me about what has and is still happening" - he looks at their hosts - "If you would allow me a few additional questions?"
"It seems the region is then facing a sickness, a plague of sorts - but something is still unclear to me - are these people alive or dead? From your explanation, it seems the diseased can be healed with great effort, but leaving the body broken and rotten - this would indicate these people are however alive... Correct?" - he seems to ponder on how to continue - "On the other hand, nothing of what we have seen them do, nothing in their posture or disposition points to a conscience, even if a bare one. They seem unliving... But as I said, I do not understand much of these matters - I try making up for it by being curious, and willing to learn whenever possible, hence my question - are they alive or dead?"
He shifts his position in the comfortable seat, to stand upstraight before continuing - "On the other hand you seem to have accepted that the sheer number of affected ones is so large that there is no way to face them head on - from my end it sounds like a very wise and well thought out choice" - he looks at Amun-Ta - "I don't want to be blunt or discorteous but this seems to indicate there is no other way to recover your household except for patience, allowing this thing to play out its course and dwindle"
Looking back at Amurath Khan, he adds - "But I did hear you speaking about your belief that this plague is not natural, having perhaps been discovered in some 'foul ruin or black place of power long forgotten' - have you any idea of what this foul place could be, and where it would be located?" - Polux stares at his beer - "You see, I consider myself a free man - that means I can offer my allegiance to the causes and resons I believe in for some reason or another - I will not say I have never fought as a mercenary simply for the gold reward - I have, and believe I will do it again before my days are over. But there is something nagging at the back of my skull, telling me that simply ignoring all this and heading back to Beacon is not what I want to do. Would there be a way of knowing where this has all started? And perhaps gain access through it without traversing a sea of disease ridden... things?" - he smiles - "The way I see it, you can wait out a year for this all to be over, return to the broken homes, beginning to rebuild them, simply for the same disgrace to fall on everyone again soon after. If we could pinpoint the origin, access it through... I don't know, underground caves, by air, or whatever, and at least gain the knowledge of what could have been at the beginning of all this" - he stands up - "Well then maybe it could be stopped faster, or dealt with in such a way so as to guarantee it does not return?" - he lets the question hang.
As Amurath towels off and slips into a robe a look of comfort is on his face.
"If you would allow me a few additional questions?"
He glances at Polux.
"Of course," he says, and sits down again to listen.
"Are these people alive or dead?"
He motions for another mug of beer from one of the servants and takes a small sip of it.
"They are still alive, yes."
"Nothing of what we have seen them do, nothing in their posture or disposition points to a conscience, even if a bare one. They seem unliving... But as I said - are they alive or dead?"
Khan glances at Amun-ta, then back to Polux.
"They are indeed alive, but they are under the affliction of the disease."
"I don't want to be blunt or discorteous but this seems to indicate there is no other way to recover your household except for patience, allowing this thing to play out its course and dwindle"
Amurath Khan takes another sip of beer first.
"I did think that it was wise; though I regret we could not do more."
Amun-ta clears her throat and leans toward Amurath Khan.
”Your pardon, lord – but I believe my companion wishes to know more of the nature of the disease,” she says tentatively.
He glances at her, his eyes widening, and he nods.
”Ah – well; I shall do what I can to elaborate,” he says politely.
Thinking a moment, he does what he can to put the terms of the disease in the simplest terms.
”Apologies; I am not very skilled in medical jargon, being a simple man, but I shall try my best…”
Taking a sip of the beer he begins.
”From what we have understood the disease is introduced into the bloodstream via specific sets of wounding. The disease itself attacks the body, but it specifically targets the brain. Now, as we all know, the part of the brain which affects our rational thinking is called – in layman’s terms – the neocortex. As the disease enters the blood it attacks the brain’s frontal lobe and corrupts it, which naturally damages the ability to utilize logic or common sense,” he says with a casual wave of his hand.
”The disease is a type of virus which we suspect feeds on parts of the body, but it targets primarily the brain’s gray matter, generally focusing heavily on the frontal lobe first. We suspect that is because the frontal lobe is the least important part to the virus because even if the frontal lobe is damaged or removed the subject is still able to carry out basic survival instincts and rudimentary motor skills.”
”That is obvious in the first stages as even these infected subjects would move away from things like fire or bright light – which you recall when they attacked you earlier. But again, their survival instincts still existed. For example, they had the basic sense to hide from the bright light of the sun which hurt them. And their senses till worked for they were able to hear your approach to come out; and they could see you to attack you, and smell your blood – which is evident in their attack.”
”From what we can assume, the virus then spreads to the upper spinal column which can also damage the part of the body which controls elements such as “common sense”; causing them to become seemingly more violent and aggressive. It also obviously congregates near the mucous membranes,” he says.
Seeing White Fang cock his head in confusion, he smiles a bit at the pup and explains a little further.
”We suspect the virus attacks the mucous membranes because their vision and hearing seems to become eroded in time. Furthermore those areas are more damaged, the eyes being hurt with greater ease from bright light, for example. Also, obviously, their mouth is filled with the disease which moves through the mouth and lips.”
White Fang nods sagely at this wisdom, than pauses to lick his hindquarters.
Amurath sighs and continues.
”As the virus attacks the brain it causes it to rot. The rot is recently created dead brain cells because the virus has “eaten” that part of the brain; once it has eaten that part of the brain, it moves on to new areas to attack.”
”We guess that the virus itself can be allayed if the subject consumes uncorrupted brain matter and new – and therefore healthy – blood. As the subject ingests new blood or brain matter the virus quickly moves to the belly and attacks the blood en masse, consuming the parts that have been ingested.”
”As long as the virus is able to attack new blood or brain matter than it does so. In fact, the subject is even able to smell blood and seeks it. However, if the subject is “starved” of these things than the virus eventually moves to different parts of the body and attacks it, causing it to rot.”
”But generally it begins to assault the bloodstream directly. Now, as we all know, as the blood is slowly devoured or “eaten” if you will, then the subject’s muscles become slower and more unstable; the subject ends up shambling and jerking about.”
”Ooh – like rigor mortis,” White Fang says perking up.
Amurath Khan chuckles at the pup’s enthusiasm to be included.
”Yes – very much so. As the blood is filled with rot the subject has a harder and harder time moving and dealing with coordination; their ability to reason is gone and their ability to think logically is destroyed and they are filled with only a consuming need to feed the virus to stem off the attack.”
White Fang leans forward and takes a sip of the bathwater, his noses wrinkles at the flavor and he sticks out his tongue at the taste.
”Ptah! Eww... " White Fang says, trying to clean his tongue from the taste.
"Well how come the gods can't just fix it?” the pup adds, now very curious about this disease.
Amurath glances at White Fang and rubs his little spine gently with his fingertip.
”A priest can stop the disease with a spell. But if the disease is cured the virus is dead. The subject will no longer rot; the subject will no longer crave blood or brain matter and the subject has no further need to feast.”
”However, they have lots of rot in their body and are still suffering from things like the faux rigor mortis from dead blood; eroded mucous membranes; a potentially damaged spinal column and probable dead brain matter.”
”So if the gods were able to heal the disease they would then have to cure the subject of the damage done to the body from the disease. Further, even if the disease can be cured with alchemical remedies the subject still has all the rot in the brain which also needs to be cured.”
White Fang’s eyes widen.
”Wow! And if the undead don’t eat more people? “
Amurath sighs.
”Then the disease keeps attacking parts of the body until it eventually consumes the body and the person eventually is fully dead."
"I did hear you speaking about your belief that this plague is not natural, having perhaps been discovered in some 'foul ruin or black place of power long forgotten' - have you any idea of what this foul place could be, and where it would be located?"
Amurath Khan places the beer down.
"Yes; yes I do have such an idea - but they are merely surmise," he says politely.
”The assumption was based on the fact that we have read tales of such a disease in ancient tomes, but we have not seen any people with that disease in the past thousand years.”
”The folk that had the disease were in ancient cities which were eventually destroyed – the citizens were consumed by the disease. Once the folk of the citizens were killed the superstitious avoided the cities until they fell into disuse and eventually were considered “cursed by the gods” and were lost to the world.”
”It is possible that such a city may have had a remnant of the disease somewhere; perhaps. But how would it get here?"
"The way I see it, you can wait out a year for this all to be over, return to the broken homes, beginning to rebuild them, simply for the same disgrace to fall on everyone again soon after. If we could pinpoint the origin, access it through... I don't know, underground caves, by air, or whatever, and at least gain the knowledge of what could have been at the beginning of all this… well then maybe it could be stopped faster, or dealt with in such a way so as to guarantee it does not return?"
Amurath Khan looks at Polux.
”That is merely surmise. To discover its origin you would have to search the tomes in ancient libraries and cross-reference that data with the few remaining maps that can be found on the subject; then you would have to seek those places and hope that the places do indeed have a shred of evidence that could show how to halt it, if indeed such evidence exists.”
He sighs.
”But such places are so far from our cities we do not even know their location, except generalities. We can speculate, but that does not answer the real question."
"That true question is this: since the disease is only spread through the blood and the incubation period is only a few days - if anyone had the disease so far into the wilderness how could an infected subject survive long enough to make it back to civilization without being consumed?"
"Unless someone deliberately searched for it and brought it back here on purpose; but who would do that? There is no cure, it could not be stopped once it is unleashed... only a monster would do that, and I cannot think of any living being on this plane who would even wish to do that, as it can spread to men and beasts alike; killing every living creature that walks this world."
White Fang hops up and stretches his little back.
”I know! Maybe ghosts spread it!” he says helpfully.
Amurath Khan glances at him.
”Why should ghosts seek to spread such a disease? Ghosts do not need blood,” he says to the pup gravely.
White Fang looks a bit sad, than brightens.
”Yeah, but if people were scared to go into those old towns maybe ghosts made them go into town like this – I am a scary ghost and you have to go eat sick things and spread this stuff! Raaarh!,” he says with a little growl, doing his best to mime scary ghosts.
Amurath eyes White Fang shrewdly.
”Ah, but even if they wished to do that ghosts do not posses people and control them like that, little one.”
White Fang lowers his tail sadly, a little frown on his face.
”If ghosts don’t do that, who does?” he says with a little voice, clearly nervous at the answer.
Amurath Khan’s face grows very serious at that question.
”You ask what type of creature can enter a man and possess him, forcing him to do evil things; if not the gods themselves, yes?”
”Uh-huh…” he says quietly.
He glances up, his eyes serious.
”Demons can,” he says softly.
Jenner listens to all the questions and explanations solemnly.
"Don't take me for a harsh man as I say this, sir, for as a healer I would far prefer to see any soul suffering from an affliction be cured, but... this 'patience' route don't seem like it'll sail the ship, as we say. Leadin' 'em out into the desert... 's all well and good, but I reckon there were near two-hundred of them just back at Lady Amun-Ta's estate. The isolation of her people's lands keeps those two-hunnert from spreading, but for how long?
"Seems to me that if there's thousands of these poor blighters, then it's not patience you're needin', but an army to put them down. Again, I say this with compassion for the poor bastards, gods know they didn't choose this fate, but by all that is holy and not, their numbers will spread to over-run your whole country. Not to tell the quartermaster his business, sir, but survival may mean taking 'em out in big numbers, clearin' the deck so to speak, or that weight'll drag your whole ship down to the bottom. Just waitin' it out, lurin' some off to the sands...." he shakes his head.
"And if your nibs is right about this bein' the work of some folk intentional-- a demon-cult or what not-- why then, even more so you've got t'take the fight to 'em. I don't reckon a demon went to all this trouble just to let his rottin' crew die off in the desert. Whoever's mindin' this thing would be smugglin' the sick in to the cities, where it'll spread like the very devilry on account of so much fresh blood and brains and all, all so close together."
They had signed on to protect Beacon but the journey so far had led them to faraway places -- into lands which required much aid from a plague delivered by demon cultists. This responsibility was more than their small group could carry alone. They had no magic, except for Holystone...and Snaga. Strength of courage and arms would still not be enough to eradicate a disease that turned people into living corpses who fed on others.
Taissa listened to, and pondered on, the information talked about. She combed her wet hair slowly, untangling the snarled strands.
"Good magic is limited across the lands. There are not enough clerics and spiritual men and women to combat hundred, let alone thousands of Undead. The disease spreads quickly, as you say. If we had ability to fly above them and throw flames down upon them ... we may kill some, more than if we tried to fight them on land. We cannot live perpetually on the sea, knowing these Undead do not like the water for it makes them swell." Taissa's husky voice was lower than usual as she softly pronounced her views to the group around her.
Taissa lifted her hair and squeezed the last of the water from the ends before shaking the copper tendrils out so they could dry.
"Mayhap we leave the cultists here to Amurath Khan and Amun-ta and we return to Beacon and fight any impending incursion there. Holystone is right -- the cultists will smuggle the diseased into the towns and cities in order to bring their demon lords into power."
I agree with Holystone and Tai. My position on this is clear, and has been made so from the beginning. Helping out is all well and good, but we have responsibilities that we have signed on for. With that, I am off for a nap. Wake me when our ship arrives so that I can prepare to leave.
As his companions speak, Polux is still staring mouth agape at what seems to be a conversation carried out between White Fang and Amurath.
With a smile, he shakes his head - "Well, thank you again for your hospitality, and all the information you have provided - it has been thorough and interesting" - he nods at the man - "It seems our next destination is defined, and my curiosity is satisfied, unless White Fang wants to place any further questions" - the man laughs out loud.
As the party considers options they are startled at the sound of footsteps entering the bath house.
You see Johnny, Kristin, Ren and Piper at the doorway.
Seeing them there, Amun-ta smoothly exits the tub and stares at the company with flat eyes as she towels off her dripping, svelte body in an almost leisurely manner.
Kristin glances briefly at Johnny and Ren and seems to be grinding her teeth at the display.
”Oh for god’s sake, here!” she says, picking up a second towel and flinging it at her. Amun-ta catches it deftly, but says nothing, her lips quirking in a very dry smile at Kristin’s frustration.
Ren has not paid any attention to Amun-ta or Kristin, but instead seems to be doing an admirable job of doing his best to look anywhere but the bathing form of Taissa, his face blushing darkly.
Piper takes a moment to gawk at the men in the tub, than grins widely.
”Damn, looks like I miss all the good times,” she says watching the warrior folk get up and dry off and letting out a low, toneless whistle.
Meanwhile, Johnny seems to be distracted by something; his face is serious and his expression is not one that is meant for games.
”Look, I ain’t too sure what ya’ll been up to; I expected you to make some purchases or what-have-you; but then we got to be shoving off. Either tonight or tomorrow at dawn at the latest,” he says with a somewhat testy voice.
Amurath Khan slides out of the tub and stares at John without speaking a moment. John bows graciously before him.
”Lord Khan,” he says with a bow.
”Captain Dodger,” the man says nodding his head.
Khan is now comfortable in his robe as he watches the companions.
”Don’t know if you guys recall what went on back in the capital?” John says to you, his voice hanging a bit ”You know, the part where we made a hasty retreat with this ship; the part when folk might be keen on finding us?” he says, pushing the point more without giving too much information on the fact that his crew had sacked and plundered the High Priest’s home after setting fire to part of the town to cause a distraction, then sailed less than two days from the capital with nothing but false colors to confuse any pursuit while you guys were walking to visit Amun-ta’s father.
”So towel off, get your crap together and any of ya’ll that are heading home to Beacon make your gods damned purchases or whatever it is you’re planning and let’s shove off some time in the next poxing century,” he adds with a growl.
He turns and looks once to Amurath Khan.
”Beg pardon, m’lord – my manners are not fit for your presence; apologies,” he says with another bow.
"Think nothing of it, my friend," he says with a polite smile but stern eyes.
"Please excuse me," he adds.
Amurath Khan pauses by the doorway and looks at you all.
”I enjoyed your conversation and companionship. If – in fact – any of you have need for gear, I can provide you with some, if you have the wealth for it,” he adds.
”Lady Taissa – you spoke earlier on arms and armor; the others did not seem interested in such things. Therefore you shall have the first pick over all, assuming your companions even wish to take any gear for themselves,” he says, then leaves the company to their thoughts.
Amun-ta flings the towel over her bare shoulder and saunters over to Johnny without bothering to dress or cover herself, except for the towel hanging over her shoulder and eases between him and Kristin.
”I would speak to you in private, captain of ships,” she says with a throaty voice which seems to make Kristin very annoyed for some reason.
”It is not for pleasure, but business,” she adds and John agrees, with a confused look at her and Amun-ta chuckles as Kristin lights a cheroot and exhales a stream of smoke toward them.
The three leave the room and only Ren and Piper remain.
”Any of you swabs need a hand toweling off,” she says to the men with a bawdy wink that makes Ren rub his face in consternation.
"It seems our next destination is defined, and my curiosity is satisfied, unless White Fang wants to place any further questions."
White Fang is busy watching Ren trying not to look at Taissa, and he gives the half-elf a stern look. But he realizes Polux is speaking to him, and he turns from Ren to look at Polux with a little snort at the half-elf, as if cautioning to mind his manners.
”Um – okay,” he says slowly, as if doing his best to puzzle things out, but clearly no expert, just organizing facts.
”Well – we know that the old guy said the sick thing was from about a thousand years ago… we know that buildings here are pretty old, at least a thousand years old… we know that some of the old buildings here were like some of the old buildings in that town we hired the, um, the Mel girl… we know that people said the buildings back home and here maybe were made by the same people… we know the people back home who lived in the old buildings were killed by the gods, like – a thousand years ago; just like the people who died of sick things here… um, ooh!” he adds his tail wagging happily.
”Um, we also know that the old guy just now said that maybe the sick stuff is in the old buildings from a thousand years ago, but the sick stuff can’t get out because those buildings are so far away from people… We know that bad guys who worship evil demon-things came to look at the old buildings back home and that they were looking for stuff… we know that maybe people who sniff around old buildings might wake up that sick stuff that made the undead things and get sick, too… We know that maybe demons can make people do bad stuff… Oh, and we know that the gods, um, they broke all the old buildings and pushed most of them into water… ”
He looks at Taissa, as his tail is literally flying around with enthusiasm.
”Alpha said water can keep the sick people trapped too… we know that maybe sick stuff could stay an island a long time… Ooh! We know that bad guys are going to those old ruined buildings on the islands… um, we know that they maybe worship or follow demon guys… Oh no! Maybe the demon guys are trying to get more sick stuff near home to use it kill all our friends!” he says, running around and then falling over by Taissa’s feet.
"The cultists will smuggle the diseased into the towns and cities in order to bring their demon lords into power."
White Fang agrees completely, but suddenly another thought occurs to him.
”Alpha, maybe the bad guys don’t need to bring sick people all the way to home… maybe sick stuff is there already, but it’s, um, maybe it’s buried in the old buildings from real long ago… maybe those bad guys are trying to get the stuff out of the old buildings to hurt people at home ‘cause if they’re priests and only priests can fix people then that would make those bad priests really strong at home… those bad priests sure are bad, but people would have to make them Alpha, ‘cause if they don’t then the bad priests won’t help sick people!” he says, than pants for a little, clearly out of breath.
He looks up at Polux suddenly.
”Oh yeah! Um, questions, questions… So, um, I guess my question is… um, here is pretty nice, but home is better, but anyway… don’t you think that maybe the bad guys are trying to find sick stuff in the old buildings back home that look like the buildings here? ‘cause we know that some of the buildings here had sick stuff, but they got smashed by gods… just like some of the old buildings at home got smashed by gods… so, um, my question is… um, well… don’t you think those two sets of old buildings smashed by gods long time ago might both have sick stuff in them too, and that’s why they’re being looked at, because – I don’t know, maybe they could be… alike?”
At this point Piper gapes at you all, her eyes ranging over everyone, than back to White Fang.
She pulls some paper out of her journal and a piece of chalk and quickly scribbles something on the paper, then folds it very seriously and moves over to White Fang and puts the paper squarely on his head.
”That’s a damn fine question,” she says with a grunt ’Hell, pup, I’m promoting you!” she says giving him a salute.
White Fang runs over to Taissa, the little captain’s hat on his head sitting on a jaunty angle.
”I’m a good boy!” he says to her, wagging his tail happily.
Snaga nods before White Fang and grins beneath his veil.
”Grond!” he says with a proud voice and raises his arm in salute.
Ren clears his throat.
”We do have plunder for all of you to make purchases; you earned it. I’d do what is needed before leaving, but I’d do it quickly – Johnny wants to sail very soon. He fears even now we might be followed and does not wish to risk a major sea battle, but rather, he is of the mind that heading home might be best,” he adds to the group, clearly waiting politely with Piper, though he has not made any suggestions about assisting anyone with “toweling off”, instead seeming to still be severely embarrassed in front of the naked females.
Melthune listens to the conversation as it swirls around her, even as the waters of the bathing pool swirl. She, politely as she can, inquires as to how soon her armor and such will be cleaned and an estimate of how long it will take to dry.
She, herself, spends only a little time within the waters. Just long enough to make sure she is scrubbed clean from hair to toes. Making doubly sure none of the rotting material remains about her person.
When the Captain enters and makes his comments to all, Melthune nods to show she has heard and understood his words/orders. When Amun-ta stands, speaks to Captain John, and they move off she stands and follows.
Melthune comes to a respectful distance from the group and waits calmly for Amun-ta to speak with the Captain. Once the group has had their discussion, she would approach Amun-ta, offering a polite bow as she does so.
"While we have traveled, we two have not had much words between each other." Melthune glances away, searching for the best words to use to convey her thoughts.
"My society knows of afflictions brought about by the evil intent of others. Seeing the devastation being visited here? Amongst your people and kin?" She shakes her head.
"To stop just the symptoms must take organization. Force or arms." Melthune sighs, "For me to be speaking of such, a foreigner? Well, from me it sounds like I am advocating an invasion, does it not?" She waits for a moment to gauge Amun-ta's reactions.
"What I am meaning to say is that I've lost kin to such inflicted afflictions. I...do feel your pain. Your loss." Melthune looks into Amun-ta's eyes, showing her feelings openly and honestly.
"My bond has me serving with the others. I must carry this through, to Beacon. Once there? I have hopes of establishing a...Steading. A place to begin something. Training others in the methods of my fighting style. Creating a group of professional military." She shakes her head slightly,
"Such a force is years away in the making. With nothing guaranteed at the moment. All I have at the moment to offer you is my strength of arms, the quality of my steel... If you would agree to such?" Melthune finishes, offering her hand to Amun-ta.
As you exit the room after Johnny, Amun-ta and Kristin you see them all stop in their tracks and turn and stare at you. All of them are clearly surprised that you’d follow them out for a private conversation, but for now none of them says anything while you speak.
You notice that Johnny’s hand rests easily on his pistol and Kristin is watching you and Amun-ta with flinty eyes.
Amun-ta is standing naked before you with only the towel over her shoulder. She takes the towel and casually dries herself off further, then she cinches it around her torso over her breasts and watches you as you speak, saying nothing until you are finished.
”I am not staying here; I, too, am returning to Beacon,” she says with a small smile as Kristin scowls openly. Johnny says nothing; his eyes flicking around the room to see who else is around for this “Private Conversation’.
"All I have at the moment to offer you is my strength of arms, the quality of my steel... If you would agree to such?"
Amun-ta appraises you coolly for a moment, saying nothing for a moment.
”If you would serve me you will find that I am not so gentle a mistress as others you have employed yourself to,” she says slowly, studying Melthune.
”Further; are you not already pledged to do a deed with your companions? They have paid you for your services. Now you seem to be uninterested in continuing. That does not speak well for your honor to me,” she says as she looks you up and down.
”If you would pledge your service to me, know that I shall have much more stringent demands than the others do, and if you should break those oaths with me, I would not respond with a mere lecture; my lessons are far more severe for those who take oaths to me and my family and might break them,” she adds.
”Knowing that – what is your decision with your companions? Will you break your oath to them, and if so – what pledge can you offer me that will bind you; assuming you wish to commit to me in full,” she adds.
Ren clears his throat and addresses the company.
”It seems that our youngest member has some good wisdom,” he says to everyone, gesturing to White Fang. However, for now his eyes are staring intently at the ceiling above the group as they get out of the tub, as if thinking.
”We all know that some men seek sorcery to make themselves like gods; they have tried – with some success – to become demi-gods, and here in Osirion, the land of the God Kings thousands of years ago men had enough power through magic and wealth to be like gods among men.”
”If men can do these things; why not creatures from other realms? We know that some creatures from planes beyond our own realm are far more powerful than any mortal; in our world they would seem almost like gods, and indeed, may have been worshiped as such… It is probable that this “Snake Cult” indeed follows one of these demons or monsters from another realm that desires absolute power over this world.”
”We know already that demons enjoy torture and blood sacrifice – it pleases them to see mortals kill each other, for they delight in our suffering. Using a sickness like this to control men would please them.”
”Now, if White Fang’s theories are correct, we could assume that a dark creature from another realm came to this one thousands of years ago and forged an empire.”
”We could also assume that more ancient cultures at the time who followed such a demon may have gained power with dark arts and took the power and used it further their ambitions to become truly great empire that spread across many nations – perhaps an ancient empire spanned as far as Osirion to Varisia, for example?”
”If that hunch was correct; that an empire had shared roots from Osirion to Varisia – as seems evident by the shared architecture found in the ruins of Varisia, and Magnimar in general which are similar to design we found in ruins here – that would mean that if the priests who ruled those places desired power they would use black arts to enlarge the power of demons and their evil ways to keep the people in line.”
”Those things you fought were not undead as we know them; Channeling Energy would not work against them, nor would most conventional methods of beating them. I suppose Channeling Negative energy would work, as it would kill the host; but that would not bother the ancient leaders of such dark followings.”
”In any case that empire may have been truly strong at one point in time. Such heresy might have caused the gods to strike down those who worshipped such dark creatures – and that would have been the end of the culture that built those structures so long ago.”
”If this demon lord still lives and seeks to raise his might again then dark followers would seek out the remains of those places and power and use them to corrupt the faithful and destroy mankind.”
”If they did it here, they will do it in Varisia, I would think,” he says with a stern voice.
”They will come to our home and try to kill men; and the only ones that they will allow to live are those who follow their dark master.”
”If we do not return to Beacon with this information, I fear that our town, as well as the lands about it, may soon be overrun….” he says.
”Johnny has given all who journeyed from Varisia with him 3,000 gold pieces to buy arms and armor, and whatever gear you can think of at this time.”
”The lord of this place has agreed to sell you gear what he can. I should say this – unlike the gear in our own lands, much of his gear is enchanted with the power of the gods. It can protect you more than its mundane counterparts,” he adds.
”You may choose your gear; but choose wisely. We leave in a few hours and there is no time to waste.”
Amurath Khan pauses by the doorway and looks at you all.
”I enjoyed your conversation and companionship. If – in fact – any of you have need for gear, I can provide you with some, if you have the wealth for it,” he adds.
”Lady Taissa – you spoke earlier on arms and armor; the others did not seem interested in such things. Therefore you shall have the first pick over all, assuming your companions even wish to take any gear for themselves,” he says, then leaves the company to their thoughts.
Taissa rose from her seat by the baths and inclined her head to Amurath Khan -- her copper hair was now drying in long, gentle waves down the back of her Osirion robe.
"You have been gracious in your hospitality, Lord Khan. I seek slow burn arrows for my longbow or finer armor. If I can view what you have, I can make a selection, upon your permission."
When Captain Dodger made his entrance with Ren and the others, Taissa had looked up from her seat, stilling the brush through her wet hair. Johnny seemed in a foul mood but she held herself in check. Her sapphire eyes sought Ren's to see if he was unharmed in their raid of the high priest's residence. He seemed well enough, although flushed.
"It is good to see you all. We were removing traces of the Undead from ourselves."
Taissa had listened to her now vocal pup who seemed to grasped the Common tongue with astounding ease in the last day or so. Her brow quirked at his long explanations and knowledge but again said nothing during his discourse.
He seemed to like the little hat Ella had made him. Taissa smiled at White Fang.
Taissa collected her clean clothes and weapons from the table and went inside to dress and put herself in order.
Returning to the main group in due course, she stood beside Hack and Polux, Daya and White Fang standing with her. Taissa's hair was still down her back and she quickly began to braid the long hair and tie it off with a leather cord.
If the Lord Khan had the items she required, she now had time to look and purchase. Ren said they had a few hours before they would set sail.
He informs you that he does have the type of arrows that you request for the standard price, and indicates that he also has a magical bow; if you want it.
"It is good to see you all. We were removing traces of the Undead from ourselves."
Ren nods in her direction, but doesn’t seem to make eye-contact for some reason.
”Very good; I am glad that you were able to clean that filth off. You were so, so dirty… I mean, that is – I am glad you are clean now,” he says stuttering a bit, then steps out to give you some more privacy.
”I am not staying here; I, too, am returning to Beacon,” she says with a small smile as Kristin scowls openly. Johnny says nothing; his eyes flicking around the room to see who else is around for this 'Private Conversation’.
Amun-ta appraises you coolly for a moment, saying nothing for a moment.
”If you would serve me you will find that I am not so gentle a mistress as others you have employed yourself to,” She says slowly, studying Melthune.
”Further; are you not already pledged to do a deed with your companions? They have paid you for your services. Now you seem to be uninterested in continuing. That does not speak well for your honor to me,” She says as she looks you up and down.
”If you would pledge your service to me, know that I shall have much more stringent demands than the others do, and if you should break those oaths with me, I would not respond with a mere lecture; my lessons are far more severe for those who take oaths to me and my family and might break them,” She adds.
”Knowing that – what is your decision with your companions? Will you break your oath to them, and if so – what pledge can you offer me that will bind you; assuming you wish to commit to me in full,” She adds.
Melthune blinks for just a moment at Amun-ta's reply, her expression remaining neutral.
"I must not be as good with the common tongue as I thought." Melthune glances to the Captain and Kristin.
"Nothing of what you've said matches my offered intentions. I thought you had lost your house. Your home. Your family. My thoughts were that you'd been reduced to..well..." And Melthune indicates the piece of cloth draped over Amun-ta's body.
"Clearly, I was in error. I was offering you some where to stay, to recover and as -you indicated- build up arms to come and reclaim your home. However, if all is truly well with your-self?" Melthune shrugs,
"I clearly stated I was serving the Captain. Nothing I said indicated otherwise. Again, there seems to be a mix-up in our understandings. Still, it is good that things are well for you, M'lady, and that you are recovering well." She nods politely to them all, "If you wish to talk, perhaps work out our language differences a little better? I'm sure we'll have much time on the journey back to Beacon."
With that said Melthune turns and moves to rejoin the rest of the group.
""I clearly stated I was serving the Captain. Nothing I said indicated otherwise. Again, there seems to be a mix-up in our understandings. Still, it is good that things are well for you, M'lady, and that you are recovering well."
Amun-ta's expression softens at this point.
"Apologies, then," she says staring at you for a moment.
"I have had a long day; I was distraught, I misunderstood your intentions completely," she says with a contrite nod of her head.
"For that I am sorry for any error," she adds sincerely.
Pausing a moment, she thinks at her next move and than speaks to you.
"For myself, I am skilled with both blade and other abilities... there is always work for someone who knows how to fight well."
"As for my family? In truth it lives as long as one of our name still walks under the sun; and I am not the only one of my kin that yet survives. My cousin Emmeth rides in the southlands even now. He is now heir to my father's House," she adds with a tight voice.
She glances away for a moment, then back to Melthune.
"I head to Beacon because I believe that those scum who took me have allies in Varisia. My cousin can deal with the enemy here; but someone must look to avenge blood for blood in the northlands. I shall attend to that vengeance while I serve this captain and his crew," she adds with a nod to Johnny, who looks a bit annoyed at the long speeches.
"That said, I must attend to the particulars of that planning; I will see you aboard soon," she says with a bow.
The three leave and Melthune returns to the others.
"Most eloquent critter I ever met," Jenner says with a whistle to White Fang's long, insightful assessment of the situation.
Seeing as time is pressing by Captain Johnny's assessment, he reluctantly leaves the water behind, the last to get out of the baths, and dries off with a crooked grin at the... interested lady of the crew. He'll have to talk to you later, Ella.
He's still toweling off his copious amounts of hair when their host generously offers purchases of stores. Jenner blinks, while wringing out his beard. Well, he don't usually carry a shield, on account it mucks with his needin' to fold his hands to pray and such... and it doesn't seem like his nibs has magicked-up guns for the buyin'... and armor, well, that might be worth the buyin'. He asks if they possibly have any made of the same wondrously light metal as his own, current chain shirt.
With quite a great deal to think over, Jenner hurries after the others, leaving a small trail of water behind him as his hair is still dripping a bit.
As White Fang anrticulates a line of thought that definitely none of them could, Polux's mouth drops even a tad further agape than it had before - "What the..?" - he whispers to himself, but then just shakes it away.
As Amurath leaves, he offers his greetings - "Allowing us to restock and also perhaps acquire new, better blades, would be most welcome - so far you have made our stay as best as it could be. And all of it at face value - for that I thank you" - the man nods.
He offers a compliment as he sees The Seahawk's crew approaching - "Well met all", but raises an eyebrow at John's tone, and shakes his head at Ren's digression about White Fang's considerations - "I'll leave you both to your cosmological and historical debate" - he signals both Ren and the worg - "I'll get on with more mundane tasks like finding a good blade, and leave the most scholarly matters for those amongst us that master them, like White Fang" - he chuckles.
Turning to Snaga, the man adds - "You should have some cash on you - planning on making any acquisitions?" - as they move off towards wherever the weapons and armour may be stored.
** spoiler omitted **
Remove Sickness
Endure Elements
Remove Paralysis
If none are available, that's fine.
"What the..?"
White Fang hears your consternation and merely looks at you and his fur bristles somewhat. Then, realizing that he had to organize all the clues and you seem to be surprised he could do that, he trots over to you and says -
"I guess that's why I have the nice hat!" then he pokes his tongue out at you for ignoring his questions.
"You should have some cash on you - planning on making any acquisitions?" - as they move off towards wherever the weapons and armour may be stored.
"Aye - I can buy gear if you wish. Tell me what you want me to have, chief and I will get it," he says to you as he moves with his loping gate behind you.
Ren nods in her direction, but doesn't seem to make eye-contact for some reason.
”Very good; I am glad that you were able to clean that filth off. You were so, so dirty… I mean, that is – I am glad you are clean now,” he says stuttering a bit, then steps out to give you some more privacy.
Taissa was perplexed by Ren's comment and could not understand its meaning -- deeper meaning, if it had any. She shrugged it off internally. If he wanted to speak on it, she was certain her would bring it up at some later time.
She donned her new magical Mithral shirt and it fit her form just right. Stowing the various (now clean) weapons on her person, she was happy when her bow was returned, imbued with magic. She put the five new slow-burn arrows in the quiver with the other eight.
"It was fortuitous that our paths crossed, Lord Khan, even if the circumstances were not so pleasant", in reference to the Undead plague spreading through the people. "Again, I thank you. May the Spirits watch over you. "
Looking to Ren once more, Taissa asked, "Are we to make plans for when we return to Beacon? Or does Johnny simply want us dressed and armed, ready to leave?"
Taissa had seen White Fang poke his tongue out at Polux and called the pup to her. Daya was already waiting silently by her side.
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”Show this to any man from Osirion in the west and they will owe you a service on behalf,” he says gravely.
White Fang rushes over to see inspect the coin as well, the little paper pirate hat wobbling on his head as he hurries over.
”What does it say?” he asks filled with curiosity.
As you inspect it, he offers his opinions on the matter: ”Ooh! Alpha, I bet that old coin says “Valar morghulis!” he says, then he does this.
"Are we to make plans for when we return to Beacon? Or does Johnny simply want us dressed and armed, ready to leave?"
Ren looks at Taisa.
”Hey wants you ready to sail as soon as can be. Remember, we’re likely being followed by powerful trouble from Osirion. They will likely be able to Divine our true path with the aid of their gods and locate us; we must not dally any longer than possible…” he adds.
Suddenly
Johnny moves through hall and rallies the troops.
”Alright gang – enough jibber-jabber. We’re ready to shove off, chop-chop, savvy?” he says with a growl, confident that you all have taken the loot you were giving and made the purchases you needed.
He bows to the Khan and says a polite goodbye to their noble guest.
Within moments the party is quickly ushered down to the ship and is aboard, setting sail for Beacon with more gear and less loot and an enthusiasm for home.
Naturally White Fang rushes to the prow and stands there dramatically. But then a gust of wind blows his little paper hat off and he yelps and chases it all over the ship as the rest of the gang gets underway.
Pleasant as the bath was, Jenner is just as glad to have a ship's deck under his feet again. He stands at the bow of the ship, peering off into the dark water ahead and offering silent prayers up to his 'blue lady' for both the safety of their current ship.... and for the souls of his former shipmates, consigned to their terrible fate.
He'll pour a glass out to 'em later...
With the wind in his face once more, Jenner seeks out his new shipmates and rummages in his trusty pack before producing one of his most prized possessions... (well, not counting the passel of valuable gemstones he keeps squared away in the toe of his boot. Nobody who can smell is going anywhere near there) ... a bottle of the best whiskey he's ever personally bought. A gift from his last captain, for healing the man when he was near to dyin'.
"Well, my friends-- here we are, a-headed north and leaving the curses of this region behind, one hopes! Tell me more of yourselves, if you care to: we've had those poor wretches bleeding down our necks, and high pursuit to worry on, until now... but now's a time for the swapping of tales and the toasting of glasses, drinking to the dead and resolvin' to live! Give me your glasses, friends: I've some of the Oldlaw whiskey in me pack, and you won't drink better no matter how far you sail.
"How long have you lot traveled together?"
"What the..?"White Fang hears your consternation and merely looks at you and his fur bristles somewhat. Then, realizing that he had to organize all the clues and you seem to be surprised he could do that, he trots over to you and says -
"I guess that's why I have the nice hat!" then he pokes his tongue out at you for ignoring his questions.
"Indeed you do" - Polux retorts to the worg pup - "And quite deserved. You talk like a captain, so you should have a captain hat I guess" - he laughs.
-------
As they move away from Osirion, Polux stares back at the shore with the feeling they left something unfinished, but after a few seconds he simply shrugs it away - Who cares? - he ponders to himself - I am not here to set the world straight
As Jenner approaches, he nods, and then smiles at the thought of a good drink - "Not long actually" - he thinks for a moment - "But I guess we can say we've traveled far together. We met back in Beacon by mere chance in a tavern - I have lost count of how many stories have started like that - the place is needing... Fellas with a... Lets call it an entrepeneur bent?" - he chuckles - "In its defense, patrolling, sailing, you name it - opportunities abound over there - we decided to grab one of those, signing some sort of official document that pledges our service to the local lord, and in return we were promised wealth and land beyond Hack's wildest dreams" - he elbows the barbarian and laughs - "Our friend here wants to drop the axe and take up agriculture - potatoes, turnips, the works"
Looking at the others for a second, he adds - "Then we got chartered to go with The Seahawk and investigate the dealings of a cult intent on human sacrifices and whatnot to some ages old and foul god - we did so, nailed some cultists, freed some captives - Amun-Ta was one of them" - he adds - "Along the way we stopped on an island to resupply, were jumped by a goblin tribe we later understood were being bullied by an half-orc priest, apparently intent on some crap similar to what the cultists were up to - he had a big snake he worshipped like a sort of god-thing, but he was waaaaay off - we killed the snake to prove that point, and killed the half-orc to show him the error of his ways" - he smiles again - "We freed Snaga who decided to join us" - he nods at the goblin - "And also White Fang, who you already know - Taissa's companion, and scholar worg" - he is grinning widely by now.
"By then, we understood that the web extended far and beyond what we expected, sold the ship we had captured from those crazy worshippers for a bundle of gold, moved to Osirion to return Amun-Ta to her home, and perhaps get some additional insight on this plight that was coming too close to Beacon. I guess the rest is history" - the man finishes.
"I am sure I forgot something, but I think that's the gist of it. And I just realized I have already spoken so much my throat is dry, so I'll accept some of that whiskey, shut up, and let the others do the talking" - he extends his glass to Jenner with a smile.
Hack takes out his hip-flask and toasts to Jenner.
Welcome along, Holystone! If ya amind for strong drink like Polux and I, then we'll get on fine. Polux, our Captain mind ya, just about covered all of it. As for farmin', that's fine and all, but I am just lookin' to set down roots somewhere. I have seen alot of killin' for someone as young as me, alot brought about by my own axe. I have no fear to continue, but I'll surely be to the mud sooner rather than later if I keep on like this.
He takes another pull on the whiskey. Then, he packs his pipe, and sets it to light.
In Beacon, we will need a home base of sorts before the anticipated attacks from Riddleport begin anew in the spring. We have been promised land, and I mean to start construction soon, but a group location may not be a bad idea.
He sits back and waits for the others to weigh in as the smoke encircles his head.
”Show this to any man from Osirion in the west and they will owe you a service on behalf,” he says gravely.
White Fang rushes over to see inspect the coin as well, the little paper pirate hat wobbling on his head as he hurries over.
”What does it say?” he asks filled with curiosity.
As you inspect it, he offers his opinions on the matter: ”Ooh! Alpha, I bet that old coin says “Valar morghulis!” he says, then he does this.
Taissa gratefully accepted the coin -- an unexpected boon on this journey.
"Once again, you have shown me generosity of heart and spirit. I will prize this boon. Thank you, Amurath Khan." And she bowed her head, wrapped and placed the coin safely inside the pouch about her waist and moved along with her companions to The Seahawk.
Taissa made a mental note to later ask one of her more knowledgeable companions what the symbol on the coin meant.
Taissa had remained rather quiet, thoughtful, as she boarded the ship with her animal companions and the others. She gave instruction for Daya to watch the ship and seas from above for a little time, giving the Roc a lit lantern to hold in her large claws to shed some light across the dark waves.
She recollected how much knowledge Ren possessed and during the first hour of the sea voyage back to Beacon, she approached him and asked for a quiet word.
Carefully extracting the strange coin from her pouch and using one of the ships' lantern's light to illuninate the symbol, Taissa showed the coin to Ren. "What does this symbol on the coin mean, represent? It was given to me by the Khan - a boon for my respectful regard."
Holding the lit lantern in her large claws, Daya flies above the main sail and out into the dark sky above the ship, scanning her eyes across dark wave and ocean.
Amurath Khan is impressed by your good manners and he bids you a safe and prosperous journey.
"I am pleased with your excellent manners; it is my pleasure to reward such courtesy," he says with a friendly smile.
Ren takes the coin gingerly and examines it.
”Ah! This coin is minted from a unique blend of metals; it is very hard to duplicate. However, essentially it is like a signet ring. The symbol is a mark of the Khan’s heraldry. Anyone who sees it will recognize that it comes from his House.
”It is not – in fact – a rare or valuable metal in of itself. Rather, the coin is a symbol which, if given to one of the folk from Osirion who recognizes the crest; they will see the coin and realize that it signifies that whoever is carrying it has the full blessing of his House. If you ask the person to do something they will do it as if the Khan himself is asking. Then, if they return it to the Khan and explain what happened he will honor them for their service to him through you.”
It seems that Ren has moved into an almost “Default” mode in which he resorts to speaking/educating you about a subject. Because he is now giving you a speech about cultural information he is able to seemingly bury his emotions with some ease.
This may be a good thing; before you initiated conversation about the coin he seemed a bit – different – when you approached him. His manner and mood seemed far more tense then usual for some inexplicable reason.
Alright, guys, you are currently en route to Beacon and home; you have no doubt you will reach it soon with little to do but socialize with the full crew; if anyone is interested, that is.
I’ll happily answer/RP any questions/comments or concerns with the rest of the crew.
Failing that, you should be in Beacon in a day or so in “Real Life”. Looking forward to having you guys home soon :)
Jenner listens with big eyes to the full version of the strangeness this group has uncovered. He is generous with the whiskey, pouring glasses for them all and filling Hack's hip-flask if he so desires.
"Gods' bones, you've had a time of it. Hrmnn... I've always felt that the Blue Lady had somethin' more in mind for me than just sailin' where my fancy took me. P'raps she means for me to aid you against this... cult, whatever their nature. But any who are muckin' about with sacrifice and the like need a good keelhauling and then some."
The Varisian sailor scratches at his head. "I shall say what prayers I can for every soul on board this ship, and most of all for you, my friends. It seems we'll need it."
At Hack's words of a bit of land, Jenner perks up. "Ahhh, buildin' on land's no good,"[/be] he jokes to the heavily-scarred warrior. [b]"What you need's a ship! Like this one!" he says, patting the deck beneath them. "Pick up and set sail whenever ye please! Or mayhap that's just my dream," he finishes with a chuckle. "I've been saving for it, but there are many things to spend coin on in this world, aren't there? Good drink and good companionship among 'em.
"Tis a pleasure to sail with you, though: I hope that the hour comes I can repay your kindness t'me. I reckon I'd have died on that rock sooner or later. Probably sooner."
Jenner scratches thoughtfully at his belly. "This'll all make a hell of a tall tale at the next tavern I visit, tho."
"Evenin', sir, and a fine one 'tis! I've an offer if you wish it-- the Blue Lady's given me a bit of insight into her moods, at times... If it would serve you, sir, I'll pray to her on the morrow to know the shape of the winds for the next day, be they foul or fair or middling. An' if any of your crew are sick or injured, I shall tend to 'em willin' like, sir."
"Miz Ella, how'd'you do?" he says with a gold-toothed grin, touching his colorful head-scarf respectfully. "D'ye have any aches and scrapes needin' looked at, ma'am?"
Captain Dodger is on the quarterdeck standing next to Ren; Krisitn is nearby and Amun-ta is on the foredeck working with Uraga, Khal and Blackroot.
He listens to your proposal from the quarterdeck and smiles at you.
”No worries on that count,” he says to you with a nod.
”We’ll need all the help pushing this ship as fast as can be; I reckon we’ll have a mess of troubles on our heels even now, seeing that we hit the house of the High Priest back in Osirion…” he says with a grin.
”Fact is, we’ve got a pretty tight crew here. With Amun-ta signing on to help us and Kristin sticking around, too,” he says with a somewhat tight voice, as if the prospect of continuing to sail with the two women at the same time is not as delightful to him as it might be ”We’re pretty full up on sailors and priestly folk,” he adds.
”Still and all, we’re thankful to have a mate on board who’s eager to help out and pitch in until we get home to Beacon,” he adds with a grin.
”That said, you’ll be compensated for your work on the way home; that much I promise you,” he says.
”When you get to that berg you may find lots of work; they don’t got many priests out that way… a skilled man of the cloth could command a pretty decent wage out there,” he says with a sage nod.
Ella gives you a somewhat saucy grin.
”Hmm… a man o’ the cloth, eh?” she says giving you the once over.
”And you’re looking to see if I got any tender little spots on my body that need your knowing fingers to work on just right?” she adds with a bawdy wink.
”Well then, mister tall-bronze and ink-marked; I reckon I can let you – shall we say – give me the “once over”, eh?” she says, and leads you back to her cabin below decks to see how handy you really are at unraveling the knots from her rope.
"Aye, cap'n," Holystone says in easy agreement. "Don't suit me to stand a deck and not do my part, so you just speak if there's any task in partickular you could set me too. Meantime I'll just help scrub deck and trim sails like any salt, sir."
As for that note of chagrin in the good captain's voice over the, ah, abundance of ladies... Jenner gives him a brief, sympathetic smile. "Best of luck to you in all your... voyages, eh?"
Whistling, Jenner goes help the nearest sailor with his or her tasks.
Holystone's smile grows broader yet at Ella's deigning to accept his invitation. He sweeps her a bow.
"Man o' the cloth unless we're takin' off cloth," he responds with good-natured enthusiasm for the prospect of a bit of a tumble. "I do aim to please, ma'am...."
Nothin' like a bit of the oldest act of nature to take one's mind off of recent horrors, after all. It's a goodly bit of time before the Varisian emerges from Ella's cabin, thumbs hooked in his belt and a broad grin on his face. "Thank ye kindly, miz Ella, ma'am; I'm happy to report for duty anytime you find yourself in need of a good physickin'!"
Via the rolls: Johnny had taken care of the costs of his companions via the money he paid them out for the sailing. However, he has decided to offer you compensation for your work. Specifically – for every point over 10 in your Profession check that you earn each week (it was a six week voyage home) he’s going to give you that point x10 in GP. That netted you out to 650 GP – he upgraded it to 750 GP when you got the natural 20.
You therefore have an additional 750 GP.
Via Ella:
She seems very satisfied, indeed. During the voyage you had time to continue to “Sample the Goods”. In that time you observed that she has a pet that is similar to a kitten. Like White Fang this pet is rather feisty – but it is actually a griffon cub named “Kit”. Kit is very suspicious around you; seeming to dislike men around his mistress; but he’ll gradually accept you as the voyage proceeds.
Meanwhile Ella seems to like you quite a bit and plans to craft a little surprise for you when you two part ways to remember each other by.
For now the ship continues to sail with little to no mishap...
The weather gets gradually warmer and things start to feel more like spring, even though you're moving toward northern waters.