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In the boat on the way to the dock, Variel take the time to talk to both Rain and Dhaavan openly and candidly. He knows that the meeting tonight did not go well and what's to talk to both of them without Flynn and Camm present.
I want to start by apologizing to both of you for what just happened. I lost control and snapped at people back there trying to restore order. I placed blame on you Rain and for that I am sorry. I meant only that we all need to watch our words and listen to what we say and what is said by others. Again I am sorry for that.
Dhaavan, I hope you are able to handle the situation I put you in. You are in charge of training that hothead and make sure that he can be an asset on the ship. His attitude and belligerence is something I know will cause you grief. With that being said, I want to know exactly how he performs these next couple of weeks. He may be able to take us all on militarily but if he can't follow orders or work as a teammate I don't want him.
Now that being said, I await both of your remarks on how I should have handled that better and what to do in the future. I trust both of your opinions greatly in this and want to do better next time. If you want to talk separately I understand, likewise if you want to talk amongst your selves first I also understand that. I will be I the tavern sipping an ale if you wish to talk more.
As he watches Variel, Dhaavan and Rain move off toward the town, he eases himself in the rigging a bit, and considers the implications of their meeting, one that has to be private enough that they’ll risk their lives again back in town after the attack.
He thinks about this for a bit, but with no one else to talk to at this time, he merely shrugs.
Staying up for a while, he continues to watch the stars, than he eventually goes to find Risa and have one of his own “private meetings” before bed…
While it wasn't his best performance with a lass, it was still pretty satisfying. Even so, he chalks it up to the stress that came from earlier that evening...
- On the morrow –
Horatio wakes refreshed and rested. Noticing Risa curled against him he wakes her with a playful slap on the rump and dismisses her to his duties.
At this time he’ll instruct Piper to prepare him some breakfast, while he plans the day.
With nothing much to do during the morning watch, and since the others haven’t come back yet, he’ll look around for Seijiro. If he finds the young kitsune – and if Seijiro is willing to talk; Horatio will speak to both him and Camm during breakfast and chat about their plans for the last day in this place.
After the conversation with those two, seeing that is barely ten o’clock; he’ll feel a bit bored, and begin to gather his kit together to go into town to sell his share of the gear, and reinvest his earnings into more “raw materials” for his crafting.
He’ll happily invite Camm, Piper and Seijiro to come, if they’re interested.
If the others have not yet returned, Horatio will assume that Seijiro will be responsible for the ship, as he is formally the ship’s Pilot’s Mate, and Horatio will presume that in the absence of everyone else, Seijiro will have the con.
The morning of the last day in Bloodcove, Seijiro wakes and has breakfast with the crew. If Horatio approaches him during breakfast, he responds to the question about his day.
"I think I'm staying aboard. There should always be at least one officer on the ship. If anyone else returns, I might go into town one last time, but it's for nothing essential, so it doesn't really matter. I expect it will be a quiet day, regardless, as word of our recent exploits is sure to have spread by now under Dhaavan's supervision. Hopefully no one else will want to tangle with us. You look like you're ready to go into town. Stay safe."
The morning of the last day in Bloodcove, Seijiro wakes and has breakfast with the crew. If Horatio approaches him during breakfast, he responds to the question about his day.
"I think I'm staying aboard. There should always be at least one officer on the ship. If anyone else returns, I might go into town one last time, but it's for nothing essential, so it doesn't really matter. I expect it will be a quiet day, regardless, as word of our recent exploits is sure to have spread by now under Dhaavan's supervision. Hopefully no one else will want to tangle with us. You look like you're ready to go into town. Stay safe."
Horatio laughs good-naturedly at Seijiro’s comments.
”Nonsense, lad – come on, sit with us.”
”I had my lass Piper make this stuff special…” he says, trying to make Seijiro comfortable.
”It’s called tempura… heard of it?” he asks with a grin.
”I should tell you that I there was a time in my life when I had a private instructor… name of Uraga; he taught me some of the skills I got.”
His eyes look a bit distant for a moment, than he shrugs and grins.
”Anyhow – he used to like eating this and called it tempura. It’s real easy to make on ships; you just need a shallow skillet, some fish oil, and a bit of flour and some spices.”
”This here is quick-fried scallop, and this one is quick-fried shrimp – there seems to be a lot of shellfish in this bay,” he remarks absently.
”I hope you like it…”
As he eats the food, savoring the flavor, he listens to Seijiro’s plans for the day.
”Hmm… sounds good,” he says with a nod.
”I’ll be out and doing a bit of shopping, and I got some personal business to look after tonight.”
As he finishes the meal, he leans back and takes a gulp of hot tea flavored with some cane sugar and coconut milk.
”Well, that said – I hope you liked the meal and I guess I’ll shove off. But you have a good day, though,” he says, swinging to his feet and offering Seijiro a pleasant wave.
”Oye – Camm – you coming?” he asks.
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Despite the offer, Seijiro chooses to eat what Fishguts has made for the crew. He does sit with FLynn to talk though. So as not to be insulting to Piper, he does take a taste of the fried tidbits, but does not make a meal of them.
FLynn will probably take it as an insult, regardless, because he seems to actually want to misinterpret the meanings behind what people do. Ah well, he will see it as he sees it, no matter what is truly meant.
Seijiro waves back as Flynn departs and goes back to finish up his breakfast with the crew who are onboard. He welcomes back those who spent the night in town, and sees off those who are just getting their shore leave now, wishing them all good times.
He finds a nice sunny spot to sit down and let the day unfold, while he meditates on the new ability that manifested during the night unbeknownst to him until he woke. He casually feeds Tomo, who seems more devoted thatn usual, extra tidbits.
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The evening was spent with Variel slowly drinking an ale while he waited for either Dhaavan or Rain to show up. In the meantime while he waited, Variel approached anyone he could telling them of the fight that just occurred a few hours past. Its true, I tell you. We had just left this tavern and was walking back to the dock when from out of nowhere 6 assassins showed up. They got the jump on us from the roof tops. A few threw a noxious fuming substance that caused the stomach to turn over while others threw tanglefoot bags to keep us pinned together. Neither of those tactics worked on me though and I was left unhampered. Its hard to tell exactly what happened next. I couldnt see much of the rest of the group with the smoke billowing up. Quickly i climbed up the side of the building. I could finally make out three of the assassins on my side of the street. They came at me then. The first couple seconds I took more than I gave. I started to wonder if I would survive even a minute up their by myself. Slowly though I was abl to maneuver till one of them was on the edge of the building. I threw him off the side down into the street reducing the numbers agsint me by one.
Taking a sip from his ale Variel continues the retelling to those who will listen. The respite was short lived though as one of the assassins from the other side of the street leapt across and engaged me. Planting my cutlass in the roof I grabbed the assassin's blade disarming him. Dropping his weapon over the side and drawing my dagger I severely injured another. From out of nowhere a behemoth with wings descends eviscerating the fellow I had almost vanquished. Turning abruptly, I dodge the viscious slice the other assassin made. He overreached leaving himself open to my dagger. Plunging it deep into his soft underbelly and ripping upwards, he fell dead as my feet. The last assassin tried his best to finish me off, but by then our magician was able to work his magics and summoned a massive spider that snared the poor fellow.
Variel stops to shake his head, Yes, I do call him a poor fellow, for there could be only one result of our struggle. His death. He knew it as well as I did for with a tremendous feat of strength he freed himself from the webbing and leapt over the side of the building to his death. He did not fear his death for he chose the manner of his death For that I give him dues and will take a drink in his name. However, he and his ilk ambushed me and mine and for that I have hung him and the other two I engaged on the rooftop from the bow of The Dread Lady. Let it be known that I ordered this as a sign to all that would seek to harm those aboard The Dread Lady. There will be but one outcome. The last of my assassins knew it at the end and so the rest who come for me. [ooc]Not really going for much in the way of infamy, just retelling our version of it to those that may be listening. Just in case though...diplomacy
After the night spent in the tavern/inn, Variel wakes to find that he is still feeling the effects of too much alcohol in his system. That and the headache from the meeting the previous night put him in a more irritable mood than usual. The one redeeming quality was that he was able to talk to Dhaavan and Rain the night before to somewhat straighten things out. Today he would have to talk to the crew and find out thier opinion on Camm and more importantly Cyclone. Along with that he would have to talk with Flynn as to what is expected of Camm while on the ship. Hopefully all of this could be accomplished within the days time as the last of the goods would be purchased and stowed today. With any luck they would be out of Bloodcove this evening and have a few hours of sailing ahead of them before nightfall.
diplomacy with crew for the hippogriff
As the day continues and proceeds into the evening, Piper will remind Dhaavan (as per request from Horatio) that he shall be back later that night, but before midnight.
At this time Camm and Cyclone are gone.
As midnight approaches Horatio steps from the shadows and moves up the gangplank.
His face is grim and blood stains it. His eyes are flat and he does not smile as he moves onto the main deck.
He dumps a large sack in a heap by his feet.
A boarding axe dangles loosely from his hand.
Tossing the boarding axe onto the deck, there appears to be bits of brain matter which clot the grooves near where the axe is fixed to the handle, and the rear spike is dark with blood.
He rummages for a moment in the sack, and removes a small bundle and carries it with him back down the gangplank to the dock below.
Once there, he hunches over in the shadows and seems to be doing something odd with the contents.
Horatio pulls out a small wooden cup and some sort of body organ which cannot be identified from this distance.
He stabs the organ with his mother’s dagger, and it seems he is draining blood into the cup.
Once the blood has been drained, he’ll dump it roughly on the cobblestones.
He’ll reach into the sack again.
This time he will pull out a long-stemmed rose and lays it gently in the pool of draining blood…
Standing up, he calls out into the darkness.
After a moment a large bird swoops from the night to fly toward the ship and alights on the fighting top.
It is a falcon.
From the shadows a tall figure moves quickly.
Long robes cover his features, as well as a long wrap pulled around his face.
A shield is slung around his back. His right hand grips a light spear, and a dagger hangs on his left hip. There is a small pouch at his waist, but nothing else distinctive.
The man strides up the gangplank and looks around. Whistling once to the falcon, he holds out his arm and the falcon flies down to alight upon it.
Fierce blue eyes stare out to regard Horatio proudly.
He nods once at the robed man.
”Welcome aboard The Dread Lady,” he says to the man simply.
He turns and looks for whoever is on deck watch.
”I’m back,” he says to whoever that is, his bluish, gray eyes glittering eerily in the torchlight.
At this time he’ll turn and beckon to the man and indicate that he follow him below to where he bunks.
He stabs his thumb at the sack on the deck, and Piper will fetch it and bring it with her as she follows them down the hatch...
Seijiro just shakes his head in disbelief, then resignation...
Of course someone FLynn brought aboard wouldn't wait for permission to come aboard from acting captain... FLynn has no manners or respect for protocol, so why should his friends.
Seijiro just shakes his head in disbelief, then resignation...
Of course someone FLynn brought aboard wouldn't wait for permission to come aboard from acting captain... FLynn has no manners or respect for protocol, so why should his friends.
Horatio pauses at the hatch, sensing Seijiro’s thoughts about his manners and actions.
Turning from the hatch he moves over to Seijiro, his eyes flat, and stares at the kitsune, the dried blood laying untouched on his face long enough to darken.
He looks at Seijiro for a moment.
”Do you have something to say to me specifically?” he asks.
”A critique of what I did, or a criticism of my actions?”
”Tell me Seijiro-san - what have I done to offend you this time?” he says with a very soft voice.
"Proper for a stranger to ask and wait for permission to come aboard from the captain, or from whoever has the con. Your new friend didn't do that. But I really have come to expect no less nor more... There are rules and protocols and you never do follow them, thinking yourself above the rest of us. Nothing new there."
He sighs and looks flatly at Horatio.
"Proper for a stranger to ask and wait for permission to come aboard from the captain, or from whoever has the con. Your new friend didn't do that. But I really have come to expect no less nor more... There are rules and protocols and you never do follow them, thinking yourself above the rest of us. Nothing new there."
He sighs and looks flatly at Horatio.
Horatio watches Seijiro a moment, and widens his feet into a loose stance, looking at the kitsune.
”The stranger had permission to come on board because I gave permission to come on board,” he says very softly.
”I am confused, Seijiro-san,” he says slowly ”your tone sounds condescending and deliberately provocative… Stop it, please. I find it rude.”
”Further – as you are specifically acting Officer of the Watch it seems; it was your duty to have approached the new party, and identify yourself to me and my companion and ascertain who we were; after all – we may have been a threat.”
”I did not even know you were awake at this time, or I would have approached you directly, as you should have approached me and my companion.”
”Please remember your manners and your duty. I have not been insulting to you, or rude, nor have I forgotten my duty. Please extend me the same courtesy,” he says.
"As acting Officer of the Watch, it's my responsibility to give permission to board or not, not yours. So you giving him permission means little to nothing. I didn't have a chance to approach him before you brought him on and sent him below."
"Not getting permission for him, whoever he is, to come aboard, IS insulting and rude, so don't say you haven't been. Not havnig the con, or being officer of the watch, you don't have the responsibility or charge to give such permission, whatever you might think. Like I said, you have a tendency to put yourself above everyone else without thinking. I am not forgetting my manners or my duty. Just stating fact."
"As acting Officer of the Watch, it's my responsibility to give permission to board or not, not yours. So you giving him permission means little to nothing. I didn't have a chance to approach him before you brought him on and sent him below."
[b]"Not getting permission for him, whoever he is, to come aboard, IS insulting and rude, so don't say you haven't been. Not havnig the con, or being officer of the watch, you don't have the responsibility or charge to give such permission, whatever you might think. Like I said, you have a tendency to put yourself above everyone else without thinking. I am not forgetting my manners or my duty. Just stating fact."
Horatio’s eyes narrow at Seijiro.
”You are incorrect,” he says with a tight voice.
”Your duty as "Officer of the Watch" is to watch the ship for threats and identify them as such. But that does not give you the right to prevent me from stepping onto this ship any more than I have a right to prevent you.”
”I insulted no one. I stepped on to this ship; I have a right to do that and that is not rude.”
"I have invited someone on the ship. If you are upset about that, why have you not spoken to them directly, rather then berate me for what you perceive as a failure?"
”I have already said that you have treated me poorly by acting in a condescending way with me. You have not apologized for that yet, and your actions have precipitated this.”
”If you wanted to know anything about what I did, or am doing, it would have been better to ask me directly, instead of brooding and thinking dark thoughts about what I do, and how I act.”
"I do not treat you that way - you do not to have to treat me that way. I hoped we had moved past these issues."
"You have not treated me like a friend, and I am disappointed."
"If you have nothing else to say to me - except repeating that I am a bad person, in so many words, I would ask you don't say things, or even think things like that."
"Such dark thoughts disturb my wa, neh?" he adds, both sad and hurt that Seijiro would continue to talk down to him, and repeat the same overt critiques of anything that he did, and didn't treat him as a friend.
"Never said YOU needed permission to board. Nor am I being condescending. You can invite whoever you want, but they still need permission to board - and that doesn't come from you. Stop trying to treat me like I don't know what I'm doing or saying," he snaps back. He no longer looks like a cherubic man-child. His eyes are narrowed and glow darkly in the moonlight. "And I said nothing to you at first because I knew you'd react like this. You never seem to see any side to anything but your own and no one else's voice has merit with you."
He sighs and turns his attention back to the ship and his duties.
It does not do well for us to be arguing like this in front of even a few of the crew, but he keeps pushing the issue. Why won't he let it go, admit he made a mistake, and just go below? Besides he needs a bath and a change of clothes.
"Never said YOU needed permission to board. Nor am I being condescending. You can invite whoever you want, but they still need permission to board - and that doesn't come from you. Stop trying to treat me like I don't know what I'm doing or saying," he snaps back. He no longer looks like a cherubic man-child. His eyes are narrowed and glow darkly in the moonlight. "And I said nothing to you at first because I knew you'd react like this. You never seem to see any side to anything but your own and no one else's voice has merit with you."
He sighs and turns his attention back to the ship and his duties.
It does not do well for us to be arguing like this in front of even a few of the crew, but he keeps pushing the issue. Why won't he let it go, admit he made a mistake, and just go below? Besides he needs a bath and a change of clothes.
Horatio is shocked at Seijiro's display, but recovers.
"Seijiro-san, you are being rude to yell at me now. You are even more rude when you refuse to apologize for your behavior to me."
"You condescended to me when you told me of duties which I already knew about and spoke of them in a way that suggested I was a fool who didn't know those duties."
"I do not intend to repeat this again; but I have already told you that I gave permission for this individual to board, so they have permission already. And I absolutely have that right to invite a person on this ship; just as you yourself do. I can't stop you from bringing a friend on board, nor would I attempt to, as that would be insulting," he continues in the same quiet voice, attempting not to wake anyone who may be trying to sleep at this hour.
He looks at Seijiro's face, listening to the kitsune yell at him and sees a person who didn't care what happened to him during the night - a person more concerned over a technicality on "protocol" and "regulation" on this self-proclaimed "pirate ship" and recalls a time when he himself had been told that such niceties were not the concerns of "true pirates".
He sighs at Seijiro's angry outburst and rage, sad that Seijiro didn't once apologize for his behavior, or yelling, or lack of concern.
"Sejiro-san I will be as clear as I possibly can on one last point; if you talk about what a horrible person I am... I tell you now, I am able to feel your loathing and slight regard for me, even in your thoughts."
He shakes his head sadly.
"And Seijiro-san, if you knew how I would react toward your thoughts, why even think such dark things?"
"I am sad that you think so poorly of me. I had hoped we might be better friends, but after seeing how you treat me now, I don't know..."
"I wish you could relax and treat me as a friend. If you cannot; that is your choice. If you do not wish to apologize to me, or honor me, that is also your choice, though I would simply ask that you you at least try being more positive... after all, dark thoughts can hurt a person as much as dark words, neh?" he adds gently.
Then, eager to get away from this issue, he steps back and bows and goes below.
Seijiro sighs... He might have stressed a single word, but he never raised his voice or yelled at all. What WAS Flynn going on about being yelled at? He sighs again and almost barks at one of the watch for doing nothing untoward and realizes it is only his own fuming anger that would have him doing so. He stops himself and merely smiles at the fellow and gives him a nod and a shrug.
He pulls out his harmonica and plays something spritely to lighten the mood, and eventually even his own darkness seems to pass, though it is an extreme effort to keep his thoughts positive.
In time, he relaxes again and the music seems to calm as well, and while not turning melancholy, it subsides into sea-oriented ballads and away from the forced bright melodies. He calls Tomo down from the rigging, where the little fellow had retreated when the conversation turned dark and heated. Tomo returns to his shoulder an grooms his hair while he plays, calming them both.
Once Horatio has gone below he will dismiss his companion to his own bunk, and tell Piper to leave the sack on the floor, and go to sleep.
He himself is not tired.
Unwrapping a small cloth covered package from his table his eyes stare dispassionately at the carved woodwork which he had fashioned en route to this port.
Standing, he lifts it up and hangs it on the wall, giving the small area a sense of personality to it; the carved woodwork and unusual fresco seeming somehow more homelike.
His eyes stray slowly to the ledge on the bottom, crafted for offerings; but he has already given one, and is not moved to give another.
Sitting on the deck, he crosses his legs and rests his palms on his thighs, upwards and open, pressing his finger tips and thumbs together.
He recalls the teachings of one of his former mentors in the secret and clandestine arts he had learned, and elects to practice that particular form at this time.
There is nothing but the Infinite –
Life has no purpose or meaning; it is only an illusion - a dream within a dream, nothing more, nothing less.
Yet if Life is nothing but a dream; we may either embrace a dream of heaven, or lose ourselves in a nightmare.
Life will not change, yet our perception of it is can.
Knowing this – that how we see life is power for that vision allows us to create either paradise or damnation…
He empties his mind for a time, and attempts to still his heart, to still his blood; to calm his focus and his thoughts.
Take the breaths – six deep and slow; six short and shallow… empty thy mind, still thy heart, and take from life what thou would. There is nothing but the Infinite…
In time he opens his eyes and simply stares at the hull across from him.
Standing, he strips his clothing from his torso, and folds it absently. Though it is still bloodstained, he doesn’t seem to notice.
He undoes the small cloth which binds his hair back and lets it hang over his face and shoulders.
He lifts his arms slowly and rotates them, examining the ugly slash on his forearm, the scar untouched and unhealed.
His fingers absently caress it for a moment, and he considers the wound – its ugliness and its horror, and the deaths he visited on others tonight. He thinks again of the teaching of one of his mentors – ”That vision allows us to create either paradise, or damnation…”
He touches the dried blood on his face, and looks again at the scar. His eyes slowly rise to the wooden carving.
He thinks of the bloodshed and the killing and the death and the screams and mutilation of the bodies...
He thinks on all of this and smiles…
After some time, Horatio will begin to notice that the hour is late, and Camm has not yet returned.
Can you blame him? After the reception he received, were I him I would fall on my knees and call to the gods above to deliver me from such animosity.
He grunts at the thought, smiling somewhat ironically at the idea.
Pulling himself to his feet he wakes Piper and tells her to bolt the small door behind him and not let anyone in, except for himself.
He is only wearing his weapons belt; having stripped off his armor and most of his clothing, except for his trousers. But it is a warm summer night, he has no desire for his shirt or jacket. And as for his boots? Many sailors went barefoot on the decks; it was a common practice.
Moving onto the main deck he grabs the rigging attached to the mast and climbs up to the Fighting Top and sits there, his legs dangling over the edge of the planks and his eyes staring at the horizon, searching for his friend….
As he waits, and with little to do, he considers the evening. His mind tacks back to his time in school, and he thinks of poem written by an elven ballad.
The rhyme scheme was complex and it was called ann-thennath. Though fair in the Common speech, he felt it was far lovelier in its native language. Even so, he did not feel like speaking the Elven tongue now.
It comes to him now for some reason and as he waits, he begins to sing it softly and slowly.
The sky was bleak, the sun was veiled
The heavens cast their snowy lace
The light near vanished, sun had paled
And she was standing shivering
He saw her eyes and yearned embrace
And in her beauty his heart quailed
He sought her soul and wished to taste
And drink her spirit quivering
Her countenance a warming glow
It heated heart down deep inside
It caused his blood to throb and flow
As he beheld her glimmering
She gave him then a magic ride
And then they traveled through the snow
His heart was aching; love denied
The tears inside were glistening
Regarding him with magic eyes
He stared at her and yearned for more
But Fate plays games with Mortal lives
And leaves them aching sorrowful
Graced full with beauty; wisdom; lore
He wanted more then fleshy ties
He loved her essence, very core
For she is perfect; wonderful
He spoke of omens from the skies
While keeping her inside in his heart
Her being splendid and alive
That drove the tears forth bubbling
The tears stayed hidden lest they start
To both of them his voice had lied
He could not bear to be apart
The pain inside was maddening
He last beheld her, face was veiled
While leaving her amidst a crowd
His heart inside had shook and quailed
And so his heart was quavering
He longed to scream his pain out loud
Inside his soul had wept and wailed
But he refused, his soul had vowed
And yet his soul was wavering…
He sighs a bit, and continues to search the skies for his friend.
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Variel spends the last morning in port taking care of last minute shopping along with the crew and making ready to head out as soon as everyone and everything is ready. For his part the conversation the nit before was a done deal and all Variel wanted to do was head out to sea and into the shipping lanes. Hopefully they would come across a couple of nice ships to plunder, raise morale on the ship, and then head to this Tidewater Rock.
"Gods damn it Camm, where the hell are you?" he mutters.
"Tonight's the third night in this little berg and we're all done with our sales and buying and we recruited all the lads our meager reputation can afford as of now," he grumbles as he pulls himself to his feet and looking around the horizon, hoping to see his friend coming as they were together and had been separated in the night after their business was done.
"Get your bloody ass back here so that we can hit the sack, and when we wake up tomorrow morning we can sail as quick as daybreak!" he growls out, praying to see his friend soon.
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During the afternoon on the third day Variel returns to the ship. Seeing tht not everyone is back, Variel hauls up one of the bodies and prepares to take it into town. Once there, Variel will search out a diviner and see what he can find out about the assassin's history. First he wants to know where they are from, why they are here and finally who sent them after the officers of the Dread Lady.
Seijiro welcomes Variel back to the ship, glad to see another friendly face. "Hello Variel-sama. I hope your business went well and peacefully."
He watches Variel take one of the bodies down and says nothing about it at first, just watching silently. Eventually, during the process, he inquires softly, "What plans for the deceased, captain?"
Whether Variel answers or not, he watches him haul the body off to town with a curious but somber expression.
I don't think I'll ever understand everything about these folk of the west...
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Hello Jiro, hope your night and day were fair. As for myself, yes I believe that the majority of the day was productive. I hope that what I tired to accomplish helps and limits those that would seek to pursue us as easy prey. Only time will tell though.
As Variel hoists one of the bodies up, he hears Jiro's inquiry. Turning to him once the body is raised, Flynn mentioned bringing the body to a diviner to be questioned. I have not seen him or heard that he has done so yet, so I am taking care of it myself. Would you join me as I believe the markings on their necks you could understand. If they speak in that language I will need you to interpret for me. Once that is done I will return back here. Beyond that I have no plans for the bodies. They have served their purpose as far as I am concerned. Do you have any suggestions Jiro?
You search for a while and get some odd looks from people as even in a town such as Bloodcove, seeing someone walking the streets with a body over their shoulder is an unusual sight. After some directions, you make your way to a small building built into a curved section of root. The building is more primitive than the others, made of mud hardened and stiffened with straw. A simple wooden door is the only entrance you see. As you approach you see a variety of small fetishes strewn around the door frame. Skulls and bones from a variety of small animals make up the fetishes.
Taking a breath, you enter the shop. Immediately your elven sensibilities are assaulted by the display on the inside. This appears to be a shope of some kind but not one which you have ever graced. The large room is dark and dingy, dust covering most of the surfaces. Light from a single window in the ceiling, the flap held open by a stick, pierces the gloom, dust swirling in the beam of light. This does nothing for the atmosphere and indeed makes the shadows seem more sinister. Walking between rows of jars within which reside things too horrible to describe, you make your way to a small counter set in the back of the shop. Behind the counter is an archway covered by strands of bone, the room beyond dark enough that even your elven vision is not enough to penetrate it.
A small drum hangs from the ceiling on a rope made of sinew, a small bone drumstick hanging next to it. When you reach up with distaste and bang the drum, the drum continues to beat after you have stopped, the dull thump-thump eerily reminiscent of a humanoid heartbeat. The bones hanging in the doorway make a clacking sound as a tall emaciated figure backs its way into the room.
Seven feet tall the creature has tight skin covering its thin body in a yellow tone. As it turns around, you can see the skin on its face has pulled back, leaving the bones protruding in stark relief. It moves with an unearthly grace though you suspect this creature is a zombie, it is not one you have seen before. It's long limbs ending in hands with black claws like pieces of obsidian. All these things pale beside the creature cradled lovingly in its arms.
Swaddled in wrappings you see what at first you believe to be a human child. The strange zombie sets the child on the counter and you are able to see that it is in fact a halfling young in age but covered in ritualistic scars over her face and neck. The most shocking feature though is that the child has no eyes. They appear to have been cut out messily and the sockets crudely stitched with black thread.
An elf? She says in a surprisingly sweet voice which makes the juxtaposition of her appearance altogether more frightening. Long has it been since one of thy kind has deigned to grace my doorstep. She takes a long inhalation through her nose and continues ...and with a relatively fresh corpse as well. How intriguing. She takes another inhalation and says Hmm. A skinchanger from the east. Most intriguing. Welcome. My name is Riddlebone. What pray tell can I do for thee.
Seijiro offers to come, and in the absence of another officer, if it's alright with Variel, leaves Sandara as officer of the watch. He tells her that if another officer of the ship returns, she's to advise them of her current status.
He sets out with Variel for the town again, whistling softly as they set out, but stopping when they actually get to the town proper. The whistling seems to be a nervous gesture, and as before he does seem a bit uncomfortable around the dead body.
The shop itself, when they arrive, seems to have him nervous and jumpy and he jumps slightly when the zombie arrives carrying the eyeless halfling. When the blind creature seems to see Variel, he twitches... and half hides behind Variel when she smells him, and identifies his kind with a scent. He shivers slightly, looking up at Variel. He looks like he would bolt in an instant if Variel himself made a motion to leave...
Now I know I will never understand all there is to know about the folk of the west! She must be a seer, but her eyes look intentionally removed... and her other senses are scarily acute.
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The appearnace of the hut and the inhabitants gave him pause that was obvious, but Variel was determined to proceed with his task and find out if there was any knowledge to be gained from the dead. He tried to remain impassive about the 7 ft tall zombie, but through his mind were all the incantations he prepared in case things turned violent. He was glad for Jiro's presence but hoped he did not make a mistake in bringing him into a perilous area.
When the halfling youth with a adult's voice spoke identifying himself and Jiro, Variel's mouth twitched slightly in a grin. If she could tell who and what they were just by them walking into her presence, surely she could tell them about the dead and get the dead to talk for him.
Variel avoids introducing himself by name. Likewise he does not offer Jiro's. Aye, your right Madam Riddlebone. The dead is fresh, slain by my hand yesterday in an ambush. I brought him hear to find out what I can of his past for there are answers I seek. I was told to come to you for help in obtaining these answers: who sent them, where are they from, and what is Shanxia?
On the second night in town, after the arguments and speaking to Rain briefly, Dhaavan bows and takes his leave of the elf woman. "I do hope you have a ... pleasant discussion with the Cap'n. I'll leave you two to it." He strolls off into the night.
Finding himself at Benbow's Wheelhouse, he is up to his usual tricks, making supernaturally fast friends with a fellow, getting himself a free drink and an introduction to his friends, the sorcerer charms them, chuckling about stories of this buccaneer and that rogue or another. While not partaking himself, his mates drink heavily, ordering up food and will end up reveling and spending until the proprietors kick em out.
Having an early morning ahead of him, Dhaavan throws a charming smile at the lady of the house, and inquires about a room, charming his way into a comfortable bed at a generous discount thanks to the business he'd encouraged from his new friends of the evening.
There, finally relaxing, Dhaavan looks over a sheaf of arcane notes he has scribed, humming a tune from home to himself. Huh he says, "Well, maybe it needs a focus. I'll have to ask Variel about that when I see him." he mutters, contemplating a spell his is developing. He closes his eyes and rests, suffering dreams haunted by fire and death, unspeakable torments within the pits of hell.
He awakens to the sound of his own screaming rending the pre-dawn's quiet. Shaking himself he takes up his things and leaves, getting an early start on the morning, doing some personal shopping and getting rid of the new unclaimed gear.
As he deal with the last of their plunder, Dhaavan also weals and deals for the leftover ninja gear, nice and quiet like as to avoig the attention of their employers,
Opposed diplomacy
Riddlebone looks you over with those empty eye sockets. A skin crawling sense of evil emanating from her which feels like spiders scurrying down your spine. I can help thee with thy questions but a price must be paid for such a spell. Up and down we all must go, before we become food for the Crow. Riddles I shall pose to thee, a correct answer shall get your questions three. Answer wrong and a price must be paid, deepest fears revealed from shade.
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Turning to the strange woman Variel asks a question before answering hers. What is the price to be paid if we answer wrong? I shall need to know that before I agree to any such stipulations. Especially if any mention of a shade is involved. I have not dealt with the undead much other than at the point of my blade.
Providing the cost is monetary in nature and not too outlandish Variel will agree to her demands and wait for her riddle. If the cost is something else, Variel will turn to whomever is with him at that time. The rest of you do not need to be here except Jiro. Even then I will not order it but ask as a friend for your help. This is beyond my knowledge and would not place you in jeopardy unless necessary.
The woman smiles and you see mossy green teeth half rotted out of her mouth. Such a small thing I ask, true answers to questions I pose is all I require. One answer from any who would hear the corpses replies.
hmmm, not rolling high today are we...
Seijiro looks from Variel to the halfling.... swallows hard... but he agreed to be here to translate if necessary, so despite his misgivings, he gulps and nods his agreement to the price... then answers audibly but softly. "I agree."
The halfling smiles her ghastly smile again and says Then we shall begin. There is a man behind a door. A man comes to the door and knocks upon it. The man behind the door says "Six". The other man says "Three"...and the man behind the door lets him in.
There is a man behind a door. A second man comes to the door and knocks upon it. The man behind the door says "Seven". The other man says "Five"...and the man behind the door lets him in.
There is a man behind a door. A third man comes to the door and knocks upon it. The man behind the door says "Nine". The other man says "Six"...and the man behind the door opens the door and devours him.
I knock at the door. The man behind the door says "One". What must my answer be to enter safely?
Seijiro looks at the halfling, tilts his head to one side, considering the questions. He looks at Variel for a long moment and then answers softly. "Three?"
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Variel listens to the riddle and smiles to himself as the witch tells it. Although he had not the extensive training that Flynn had nor the vast experience of Rain, Variel had his own lessons. These lessons had taught him to look beyond the obvious. Looking at Jiro with a nod he whispers to him the answer to see if he agrees. Three is the answer to the riddle as I see it. The number of letters in the word the man behind the door spoke. Ironic or fate that the answer is the number of questions we have and the number slain? At least we both agree.
The woman looks as if she is savoring the discussion. Correct. One question shall you have. Next,
If you throw me from the window,
I will leave a grieving wife.
Bring me back, but in the door, and
You'll see someone giving life!
What am I?