Jack smirks and snatches up the bottle of Brandy. "Is that a challenge, miss? I think you'll find that I'm talented in ways you might not expect." He casually walked out of the cabin and out onto the deck. Flirtatious verbal sparring aside, he wasn't about to spend another minute on this ship if he didn't have to.
"Let's get moving!" he called out as he glanced over the side of the ship.
Lugging all that gear back over the rocks is a tricky and arduous business, and by the time you get back to the beach you are sweating profusely and feeling the pounding of the sun. It is getting very warm, hot enough that you feel being out in a few hours when the sun reaches its zenith will be dangerous. As you come out of the sea spray flies begin swarming over you in bothersome hordes irksome, but seemingly impossible to deter.
Gerik, Aerys, and Ishirou have moved up the beach to sit in the shade offered by the jungles edge. Ishirou is tearing leaves apart while shooting occasionaly looks at Aerys who sits back rested on a palm tree's trunk scribbling away with a quill upon her reem of parchment - she does not look happy.
"Master Jask, would you care to say a few words for the departed Captain Devers?" He looks around. "Well, as the ranking crew member left on the ship, I think a posthumous promotion is not uncalled-for."
Jask nods and moves forward tracing a mask shape in the air before gently lowering Anton's eyelids.
"Though I did not know this man well, what little interaction he had with me showed a kind heart, and a good soul. Though he may not have been blessed with the gift of magic, that is of such import in the eys of my own god, Nethys, I hold not fear that Pharasma will judge him for his virtues, not his failings. I do not know what his fate was, but I am sure he met it with grace and bravery. I wish you well Anton Devers, may your judgement be fair and just."
Looking to Quinta in particular he says, "Burial at sea is customary Miss. But they do say the shores of this Island are haunted by the ghosts of sailors lost here... Should we give him to the waves?"
Joll smirks at Dragolan's comment. Well played he thinks to himself.
"Smoke from a fire might drive away the flies but it would also alert others to our position"
"We have items that could fashion a shelter. Let's secure the area, there will certainly be predators of some sort or another."
Jask does a double take looking at Joll,
"My eyes, I did not realize you were injured, if anybody else is harmed please gather close," so saying Jask raises his holy symbol, a black and white mask depicting the duality of Nethys and calls,
"Behold the gifts of the all knowing Nethys master of Magics!"
And a pulse of crackling power eminates from the cleric, filling nostrils with the mingled scents of a thousand magical components - you can really smell the bat guano though - and and the ears with the faintest echoes of arcane words and dry pages rustling.
Alexite busied himself in setting up camp, hoping someone was taking care of their next meal.
He gathered some wood for a fire and pitched a tent with the canvas available.
Quinta frowns. "He was kind to me, and generous, gave me shelter when I was in need and asked nothing in return. If we do give him to the waves... why not give him to them with some style. We have that bottle of brandy and the wreckage of the Jenivere. Let his body be burned to ashes along with what the flames may take of the ship, so his spirit need not linger. If anyone is going to notice our presence, they will do it soon enough anyway; it is difficult to overlook a wreck this size."
Regardless what form of 'burial' is finally decided upon, Quinta starts singing a dirge. It sounds a little like one of the funeral hymns familiar in Chelaxia, but it is a more ancient song, one from the days of lost Azlant... The girl continues to sing the sorrowful tune the whole way back to the temporary camp, but her voice fades into silence as she moves into the shade.
"I have a nodding familiarity with the problems of unwanted ghosts, but sadly that confers no particular expertise on me that would be appropriate to the situation. So take this with more than a grain of salt. Nevertheless, I would suggest securing him to the wheel, that in death he would be what I called him--captain of the Jenivere. For it seems to me that no sailor, living or dead, will fail to respect a captain who went down with his ship."
"I have a nodding familiarity with the problems of unwanted ghosts, but sadly that confers no particular expertise on me that would be appropriate to the situation. So take this with more than a grain of salt. Nevertheless, I would suggest securing him to the wheel, that in death he would be what I called him--captain of the Jenivere. For it seems to me that no sailor, living or dead, will fail to respect a captain who went down with his ship."
"Wouldn't the wooden wheel cause the body to float instead of sinking in the waters? He would just wash up on shore. In fact, I think that the water here is too shallow to allow any sort of burial at sea. I suggest we bury him here on land with whatever rites would best serve to prevent him from rising as a restless dead."
Jack gasps at Quinta's suggestion of using the brandy to burn the corpse. He hugs the bottle close to his chest. "I'm not so sure about that. This isn't the kind of swill a two-bit alehouse keeps behind the counter. This could be worth some real coin."
The cloaked man smiles as he carefully inspects the bottle, cradling it in his hands like an infant.
Jack frowns. "Well.. it looks expensive. That's good enough for me!" He stows the bottle carefully in his pack. "I'm sure there's plenty of dry tinder around here that can be collected for free."
Standing up, he shakes the sand from his armor and starts collecting bits of dry, dead foliage around the outskirts of the jungle.
"It might be prudent to hang onto the brandy as a sterilizing agent, just in case." Lydran turns to the corpse of the newly promoted captain. "Though we might spare a dash to pour over the body at the funeral. I've seen the fallen honored in that way before. As to the care we show the body, I'm not exactly sure what you're concerned about. If we bury him, he'll be eaten by graveworms. If we sink him, he'll be eaten by fish. If we float him out to sea, he'll be eaten by seagulls. No matter what we do, his remains are going to feed something - as is the case with all corpses, and if they don't they end up rotting. This isn't Ancient Osirion. I think the manner of the send-off we give him will do more to honor his memory than taking pains to ensure his body is never despoiled, and on that count I think Dragolan's right. A sailor needs a final voyage - we ought to send him out to sea."
"I think I recall a proper rite," Quinta says, her eyes lighting up as she snaps her fingers. "The whole point is to grant the deceased satisfaction. Lash his body to the wheel, acknowledge him as the Jenivere's captain... and set her aflame. They may pass into the Beyond together. It would be most officers' fondest wish for their last rites."
"You are more knowledgeable than I am about funerals, so it looks like lashing and burning to give satisfaction."Joll pauses for a brief moment.[/b]"Forgive me, that was in poor taste. Perhaps the reality of our current difficulties are just setting in to me right now.[/b]
DM Carpe
Sasha shrugs, "I think the burn him with the ships have it. Why don't we use a couple of flasks of that lantern oil to get things going? I don't mind honoring the dead, but there's a difference between that and just wasting good brandy, Mister Devers isn't going to enjoy it whatever happens."
It does not take long to set the wreck of the Jenivere ablaze, and Anton Devers burns at the wheel of his beloved vessel as Captain. And for just a moment the breeze sounds like a gentle exhalation of relief.
"Well, then. Let us figure out where we are, then plan how to reach the lighthouse...or any other point where we might be likely to sight a passing ship."
"Didn't Jask say he knew something about the coastline here? Why don't we just ask him where he thinks we are? Once we know that, we can start heading to the lighthouse. I say we get moving. It's only going to get hotter as the day goes on."
Jask shrugs, "I'm afraid I only really know a few facts and the shape of the coast, I would need a few more disinguishing features to figure out exactly where we are. Sadly the mountain over there was not really on the map..."
From the shape of the coast the group can see you appear to be in a small inlet, but you cannot really see anything that would help give you bearings otherwise.
"I'm no survivalist, but I would reason it prudent to afford venturing too far into the island until we know where we are. Escape is our goal, but that isn't going to happen in a day. We don't know exactly how long we'll be here. It could be a few days, it could be a few weeks. If we make a beeline for the lighthouse, we risk overlooking the necessities of survival, exhausting what resources we do have, and finding ourselves with nothing to fall back on."
"Let's just skirt the coast until we find a landmark," Quinta suggests.
"Do any of you know the shipping routes and schedules in this part of the sea? I wonder if ships would respond to a signal from the lighthouse on this island. Any ideas?" Joll says this while obviously gathering his possession to make the march to the lighthouse. "Mark you, I do not have any other ideas on how to get off this island."
"No idea about shipping or lanes or such but here are the maps I obtained from the captain's quarters. Can anybody make sense of this?"
Alexite then pulled out the captain's diary. "And what about this? Now that we are on relatively safe ground, we should read it. Maybe it will have some clues as to where we are and how we got here."
Leafing through the log you see that the vast majority of it is written in a neat orderly hand, with reflections upon the crews disposition the winds and the Jenivere's cargo. As you get closer to the end the entries begin to become erratic, with some days missing, and the writing itself becomes scrawled and barely legible. A number of these speak of admiration for Ieana, then several entries resemble love poems to the Varisian scholar, and the maddened scribble speaks darkly of crewmen coverting, "his" Ieana. One entry penned with such venom that it has torn the paper in several places speaks of Anton Devers obviously being besotted with Ieana, and goes on to say that it would be better for eveyone if the treacherous first mate were to meet with an accident.
The final entry reads,
My Ieana has asked me to change course for Smuggler's Shiv, the Isle shall be our tropical paradise. We shall dine naked upom sun drenched beaches feasting upon coconuts and our love for one another! We can begin a life of love together.
But my accursed crew watch my blooming love with jealous spite, something must be done about them. Some of them may suspect our plans, especially that treacherous swine Devers. I will need to watch them, and if their suspicions grow I shall have to ensure they cannot interfere with our glorious plans.
Jask studies the charts as Alexite reads the log and concludes,
"These are dangerous waters, few honest ship sail here. The few that do are mostly pirates, or at best smugglers. I fear we will have a long wait, perhaps if we can set this light house up again that will draw one in, but we might want to prepare for a while stranded here."
"So, Captain Kovacks lost his mind over Ieana, killed the crew and made for this island with her. Who knows if she returned his interest. They might have reached shore alive. She could be his prisoner."
"It looks like Devers...Captain Devers saw to our safety in getting here. That probably guaranteed his death. Well, the cook looked like he died an agonizing death so we can be grateful for that, at least."
Dragolan shivers despite the heat, a sight that would under other circumstances be impressive, entertaining, or both. "The wounds on the cook's neck looked for all the world like bite marks, not something inflicted by a weapon." He chuckles a little nervously. "He almost seemed to have been killed by something like a great snake!"
Pulling himself back together, he asks the others, "It is difficult for me to reconcile Kovack's writings with his behavior. Does it seem to any of you as though this were more than mere infatuation?"
"Well, it's obvious the captain lost his mind for this woman. While I've known women to have such an effect on men, it's more likely that something else may have been involved. I don't know, maybe some sort of magic."
He looked around the group, his gaze stopping on the ones who he'd seen work magic. "Do any of you know of such a thing?"
The ranger was not happy with the situation so he checked the site where they were dropped off again. There were people still unaccounted for and their bodies had not been found. Could they have survived?
Its pretty obvious that the crew would have been either on deck or below decks, and as they to were poisoned by the soup they would likely have either drowned or been thrown over board. There are no signs of anyone else having survived evident to Alexite.
Jack groans and wanders over to where Ishirou and company have set up in the shade. He flops down in the sand and rolls onto his back, using his pack as a makeshift (albeit uncomfortable) pillow. "I figured we could just walk down the coast and see what there was to see." He points at Quinta as if to emphasize her suggestion. "I guess we'll just sit here all day and wait. If you need me for anything, I'll be right here." Staring into the treeline on the edge of the jungle, he wonders if there are any coconuts around here.
When the journal is read, Jack adds:
"Sounds like the captain had it bad. I never got the impression that Ieana was much of a temptress, though. Sounds a bit fishy to me. Maybe she was some kind of sorceress and none of us realized it. Either that, or life at sea can get VERY lonely."
Jack pats the sword at his hip.
"Guess we know what happened to Devers."
Sense Enchantment: You can tell that someone's behavior is being influenced by an enchantment effect even if that person isn't aware of it. The usual DC is 25, but if the target is dominated (see dominate person), the DC is only 15 because of the limited range of the target's activities.
Sense Enchantment: You can tell that someone's behavior is being influenced by an enchantment effect even if that person isn't aware of it. The usual DC is 25, but if the target is dominated (see dominate person), the DC is only 15 because of the limited range of the target's activities.
Lydran crosses his arms and taps a finger on his chin as he draws up to the others. "You know, back on the ship, when speaking to the captain, I had noticed a glaze over his eyes. That can be characteristic of magical control, but any number of other things can cause similar symptoms, so I paid it no mind... With the earlier suspicions of the crew, though, and now with this journal as evidence - you see that the hand has changed in the later entries - I'm forced to reevaluate my opinion. Ieana seems the most probably perpetrator, given those last few entries, and something tells me that an island paradise, which this is most certainly NOT, would hold little interest for a bookish scholar interested in ancient civilizations. I wouldn't be surprised if we found some unusual ruins on this island."
"That's a lot of trouble to go through for a few old buildings. There must be something valuable here. Regardless, I don't see how this new information is going to help us find our way out of here."
Jack sits up and leans against a nearby tree. "Anyone up for a game of dice?"
"Me, I'm more interested in finding shelter before sundown," Quinta says. "While we can still see our feet and whatever is slithering around in this jungle."
Listening to Alexite's reading of the log, Quinta bites her lower lip in thought. "This island has a foul reputation, by all your accounts. What could there be here that is worth driving one man insane and killing so many others? And did this Ieana and the captain spare our lives only to distract the natives from their own passage?"
"It would be wisest, I think, to build a small fire above the tide line and spend the night there. As the day draws on we should be able to get a slightly better idea of our location on the map--certainly, if it appears the sun will set inland from us that narrows things down rather."
You are able to find all of your belongings in the pile upon the beach, and once everyone has removed their possessions there is nothing left save a couple of sacks which your rescuer obviously used to help him carry your possessions.
The heat is now truly oppressive even in the shade, mosquitos swarm about you all, a great deal thicker in the jungle. You can hear a cacophany of animal sounds, from the incessent chirruping of insects, to far away hoots and screeches.
Suddenly Sasha leaps up in the air pointing and squealing, "Oh wow! Look at that little thing! Its like a flying lizard, its so cute! its a little dinosaur, oh no its gone! Come back little fella!"
Sasha looks after the creature longingly for a moment and then clicks her fingers, "Hey I tell you what, if you can find me a baby one of those, I promise I will take care of it. And in exchange I can show you some tricks my mother taught me that speed up your reaction time. Please say you'll help me get one? Joll, you'll help won't you?"
From the position of the sun you must be on the north side of the island. Top on the map.
Sasha looks after the creature longingly for a moment and then clicks her fingers, "Hey I tell you what, if you can find me a baby one of those, I promise I will take care of it. And in exchange I can show you some tricks my mother taught me that speed up your reaction time. Please say you'll help me get one? Joll, you'll help won't you?"
Alexite couldn't help but overhear Sasha's request; he did his best to hide his smile while shaking his head.
"Hold there lady. Mother Sasha may have done a good job teaching you to become faster but maybe she should have concentrated some on making you a little wiser. No disrespect intended but it's not really a good idea to keep a pet you know nothing about, especially a big pet like... whatever it is we just saw."
He turned to Joll, "Do what you will but don't involve me in any egg hunt and whatever you catch, make sure its nice and secure."
The ranger looked about to get his bearings, "It seems we are on the north part of the island. I suggest we lay low to conserve our strength during the hot part of the day and venture forth when it's cooled off some. We can't just stay here and expect to be rescued. Scouting out the lighthouse, wherever that may be, sounds like a good place to start."
Sasha raises an eyebrow and scowls at Alexite,
"Alright Captain Sensible, feel free not to learn the ancient secrets of the Red Mantis, I think its a pretty good deal I'm offering. And I don't want a full grown one I want a baby, if you think I could not keep a baby lizard bird in line you don't know me well enough yet! I hope they are posionous!"
"I have a suggestion for a plan to proceed. Simply walking along the beach runs the risk of an attack by more of those probably delicious eurypterids, not to mention a grievous lack of knowledge concerning other perils. It would seem wisest to find a secure place to camp close by and leave about half of us there to secure it, while the rest of us explore the area within half a day's walk. Once the explorers have scouted a route and another secure area, we move the camp there and continue the process. It may seem slower than all of us moving and exploring at once, but the time it takes to take down and set up the camp every day would slow us down even more."
Sasha raises an eyebrow and scowls at Alexite,
"Alright Captain Sensible, feel free not to learn the ancient secrets of the Red Mantis, I think its a pretty good deal I'm offering. And I don't want a full grown one I want a baby, if you think I could not keep a baby lizard bird in line you don't know me well enough yet! I hope they are posionous!"