Actions with the Pressganged.
Dhaavan takes a strong interest in the fighting top that Flynn wants to build. As a caster, while he doesn't rain down arcane fire upon his foes, this sort of safe area would be ideal for casting his summons, so the young man looks over the designs determining ideal lines of sight as well as protections to defend the casters from ranged attacks that don't interrupt lines of Sight or affect but still provide at least soft cover.
At least at the corners there should be thick boards that casters may sit behind with slits that the mage can see out of.
Dhaavan also gladly talks magic with Flynn. Dhaavan has more of an understanding of basic tricks than anything else, but he does have a strong innate understanding of Planar Magiks, hence the strength of his summons. He is also very interested in the casting that Flynn has figured out, very curious as to the source, as Dhaavan's is bloodbourne and the mage says little else on that matter, but instead shruggs off questions without actually answering.
He also tells Flynn that Tate is in fact spreading around that he Enscrolled the dwarf. Dhaavan asks Flynn to talk to his mates on the ship, because aside from that action, Dhaavan hasn't done much wrong. He risked revealing that he has magic without hesitating in order to save Rosie, does his work, has helped out in fights like with the reefclaws and really has tried to avoid arguments and conflict, rather he's trying to find a comfortable place on the boat. that's really all he wants.
Rain Dhaavan knows Rain is close to Ratline, and Dhaavan hasn't had much contact with the riggers, save Tate and that went rather poorly... So he asks Rain to vouch for him with Ratline.
Valeros may notice that Dhaavan seems to be around, either hovering about or casually joining in when he and Flynn are talking. Dhaavan is very much curious about the Gillman, though letting Flynn do most of the talking, the young man will pipe in whenever one of the two seems to start moving toward a conflict, and giving excuses and reasoning to foster a mutual understanding between Flynn and Valeros.
not too much to say to Sko, Variel, or Sejiro, beyond complementing nay harp-playing that Jiro does, and cooking Sko put out if it's particuarly good. BUt Dhaavan is already rather busy with things...
Dhaavan does seem to be around, Variel may notice when the Fighting Deck is brought up, and has some input as someone that will want to use it.
He also wishes to talk to Rain about her take on him. "I know I offended you before, like I said I'm not used to such passionate folks, and them what i have knows are dangerous and volatile, lacking yer control. I didn't know yea well enough to know you weren't like them, so I'm sorry. And now with Tate and his ilk going around and callin me out as enchanting folks I've lost what little trust I've earned. But yea've seen me and what I do with my magic. I'm really not that sort, and don't have any kind o' compulsions to throw around, just a little spell to open the mind, but I only ever did that to Tate so he'd gimme a chance to extend the olive branch. If he had been willing to hear me out, then I'd have not had to use it on him. You believe me, right?"
Actions with the Pressganged.
** spoiler omitted **...
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The next three days pass in a whirlwind of activity. Not only does Variel try to learn more about the different areas of the Wormwood, but he has been commissioned to help with the construction of a fighting platform upon the mainmast. The idea of the construction came from Flynn. A nice idea, but it just adds to the work that needs to be performed. Even with this consideration, Variel throws himself into the work with gusto. Using the construction of the platform as a ruse, Variel goes periodically to the main hold for supplies. Using the time down there to the best he is able, he explores Grok’s supplies, Fishgut’s sleeping quarters and the main hold. Finding the ballistae and catapult in pieces he marks this discovery for later use. The amount of travel through this area makes it a little difficult for him to grab Valeros’ new leg but he does manage at some point to store it in Valeros’ locker. These frequent trips did allow Variel to visit Grok one afternoon to sell the items he previously pilfered from the galley. Grok, how be the business today? I hope it is well because I have a list of items I need from different people. Let’s see here, I need some rope (1gp) for Flynn along with any healing poultices you may have. He also wants a cooking set, what for I don’t have the faintest clue as Fishguts and Sko do well enough themselves, and some oil. 4 (4sp total) pints should be enough if you got it. I think he wants some of this for his fighting platform that he is talking about. Don’t know for sure, you’ll have to ask him for the details. Hmm, let's see oh yeah i will need the 6 alchemist fires (120gp), 3 acid flasks (30gp), the nice set of tools there (MW thieves tools 100gp),4 saps (4gp), the parchments there might be handy as well (magic missile, mage armor and scorching ray 200gp). That armor looks nice as well. I think I will grab one of them while I am at it. (chainmail 100gp)
555.4*.9=499.86 spent plus the cost of cooking set and healing poultices.
She did not trust Dhaavan completely but she had to admit she had not seen him use a compulsion spell on any crew member, including the pressed gang.
"I believe you in this. I am not adverse to the usage or advantage of magic. But there are superstitious folk aboard these vessels, and, magic practitioners have not always been the most trustworthy. I will speak with Ratline and the other riggers while I'm working and will attempt to allay their concerns regarding your style of magic. I cannot promise it will do much good but it may least buy you some time to show them you can be trusted."
She pauses as if contemplating the wisdom of expressing her next thought, but she takes a breath and continues, "Charm is well and good if the sentiment behind the draw is well-meant. If you come on too strong, they may question your motives, feeling as if they are bewitched. So, try to act normally, naturally ... and do not push too hard."
Rain considers his words regarding her disposition and control. "My time aboard the Wormwood has honed my patience and my temper is checked rather than allowed to spill to my detriment. These are precarious times, Dhaavan, and I am a grown elf. Time to put volatility behind me and act and react smarter."
"Ahoy, Ratline! Just wanted to say thank you for your support during my singing last night. It's not the only thing I wanted to speak to you about." And Rain lowers her voice. "One of my pressed mates, Dhaavan. There has been rumour that he has used magical means on people to like him, to be his friends. I don't believe that. I do not completely trust the man, but in this, I have seen the extent of his charm and it is not magically enhanced -- he just knows how to speak to people and get them on side. If you can let the remaining riggers know, please? I would warn you if I thought he was manipulating anyone with magic. Aye, he tried it on with Tate, but to soften the dwarf's hostility so he would listen. Not to make him a mindless, susceptible fool. Thanks for hearing me out."
I hope this does not come back to bite me. If Dhaavan is using her for his own means, there will be a reckoning. For now she is giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Then Rain goes back to work.
Sko will approach Dhaavan. "I've seen you do the tattoo work. You do it well. I'd like some as well," he taps the top of his bald head. "I want something that represents the ocean's currents. Can you do that?"
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The long days weigh heavily on Variel. It he does his best to follow the dictation of Flynn. A certain nagging feeling hides inside Variel's brain but it isn't until the second day that he lets his mind wander enough for it to blossom fully. When it does, he almost drops the hammer he is holding. Leaning over to Rain, What got Flynn so fired up to build a fighting platform anyways. I mean after the fight with the rats his blood was running hot that he was a changed man and wanted to follow his heart, but I didn't think he would take it this far to be building attack platforms. Has he told why he is doing this? I would ask, but with our past I don't want him to take offense at the question. You get along with him better than I do so he ought understand if you ask him. It is a good idea, don't get me wrong, just I wouldn't have figured he would be helping the officers that pressed ganged us.
It nice up here. I like the fresh air and the scenery is quite nice. The view s better too. once again Variel slips the last part out almost unheard as he heads back over to continue working on the fighting platform.
The third day Variel spends less time finishing the construction of the fighting platform. Instead he climbs about evaluating from different angles how it can be improved upon or if there are any weaknesses apparent. He will also stand on the edges of the platform to test the weight and strength of the platform itself. Only when he is sure of its stability does he finally continue the end process of helping with the rope ladder and finer points of the construction process. Not bad Flynn. I think we could get a couple people up there at least to protect the ship if it gets attacked. Not only that, but if someone should slip from the crow's nest they have a chance of landing here and not all the way down to the deck.mi wonder how many archers the crew boasts. Most seem like the up close and personal type to me, but I am not the best judge in something like that. I know how to fire a bow, but never spent much time mastering it like I did a blade.
Not to change the subject, but by the way I have some of those supplies you wanted. I didn't see a cooking kit or any healing poultices, but your rope and oil are in my locker. Remind me to give them to you later. Have a little something for almost everyone actually.
Later that night with the group around, Variel will hand out some of the items he acquired from Grok. Here Valeros is that leg I mentioned to you. Dhaavan this might keep you safe around here if you are worried about your health. I am sure you know how to use it. I got it from Grok and I think it was the only one of its kind. She didn't have many scrolls but this armor scroll should do you well. I also have some saps here for those that want them. If a fight breaks out I don't want to be limited to just our fists again. These should help us out. Also Rain wasn't sure if you wanted this armor or not. No good right now but if we are to be attacked, hence the fighting platform, it might do you some good. Wouldn't want to see you get hurt or anything. There is also a nice set of tools here that was too good to pass up if anyone could use them along with some vials that I am keeping here for safe keeping. Just letting you guys know what I acquired if we ever run into a situation that would help us out but I am not available. Never hurts to be prepared does it.
I pull the rigging tighter; leaning into it a bit – testing the weight.
”Look lively, there Mister Nightstorm – these boards won’t lift themselves,” I call out to Valeriel as I see him dawdle with Rain on the second day.
I quickly glance at the deck below me – scanning the waves in the far distance. I hoist another set of boards and begin to check the lay of the planks to test its stability.
On the third day I hear Variel’s comments about the crew’s method of fighting.
”I can’t speak for the combat style of the men, Mister Nightstorm – but I think it would be best to say, at least for myself; whatever I can do to help the chances of our survival is a useful thing. In short – I’d prefer to live, on whatever adventure the gods place before us.”
I fit a tobacco quid to my mouth, chomping lustily, than spit to the leeward.
”And as for you, Miss Taneththir; how does it suit you up here, eh? It looks like the wind and sky brings a healthy bloom to your cheeks, and if you don’t mind me saying it – it suits you, lass,” I say with a grin; then I return to work, checking the boards, making sure they lay straight and true.
Finally, as the night concludes, and I hear Variel’s comments about the goods, I nod appreciatively as he hands them out.
”My thanks, Mister Nightstorm. I appreciate your efforts to get the gear I requested,” I say with a brisk tip to my forelock after he gives me the few things I requested.
Hefting one of the flasks of oil in my hand, I glance aloft at the fighting top, pondering something. Than I coil the length of rope, and decide to stow it and the flasks of oil below for whatever plans I have intended for them.
”Shame about the cooking kit; but it can’t be helped, I suppose. Even so, thanks again for the assistance. And you're right, of course - preparation is essential to any venture; even so - when plans fail, one may trust to his luck, eh?” I add with a wry grin.
Sko: Dhaavan grins at the request and gives Sko a knowing smile, "Now that's a tall order there. See the currents could be anything. the raging fury of the seas beneath the surface, or the veins of the world, carrying its life-water to the distant lands, or even an extension of the eternal rivers of the planes. So the real question is, 'What are the currents?' Of course I can mark you with a representation, but what is it that i am making? What is your truth Sko? Where does the Shark hunt?"
Dhaavan will give Sko the Tatt that he wants, but he would like it to really resonate with the Druid's deepest understanding of the seas, because Dhaavan sees the true currents as the rivers that flow from the plane of water through all others, the River Styx, the eternal and unending river, but then again he is aware enough of the Maelstrom, as well as the nature of currents as migratory paths or shipping lanes, the arteries of live in this planet.
Sko grins at Dhavaan. "My truth is that "I am" and the Shark simply hunts. "Where" isn't relevant in this sense. I trust your artistic vision to come up with something appropriate."
"I kept the poison sacs from the reefclaws if anyone has any use for them. I don't know how long they'll keep. Keeping them seemed like a good idea but I really have no idea what to do with them."
"Hey, Fishgut, I need your help with this rum situation. If I don't drink it, I get lashed. If I do, it always hits me hard, I can't think straight, and I end up getting lashed. I don't know why it hits me so roughly but everytime I've had it my head just fogs up. Isn't there anything I can put in it to help lighten the kick a little bit?"
As the next several days continue, when Dhaavan has a moment or two I encourage him to come aloft to the fighting top.
The side of the mast has lashed to it a long a fairly sturdy rope ladder, making ascent fairly easy – at least for the first thirty feet.
When Dhaavan arrives at the top, I’ll lean against one of the ropes that flank the walkway, watching the stars as the ship sways and rocks in the ebb of the water below me. Seeing that we’re well out of earshot from the rowdies below, I smile – but nevertheless, I speak softly to him.
”Well lad – what do you think of the view?” I say pleasantly.
While the night it is indeed pleasant, it’s not a simple rhetorical question. I’m genuinely interested in his opinion – specifically – the tactical advantage it presents.
”See there,” I say, stabbing my finger at a downward angle, pointing to the chop of the waves around us ”At this distance I reckon you can hit a ship at a good range; and even if they have archers, muskets, or spellslingers – hell lad; what difference does that make? You lean back a foot or so and they simply won’t be able t hit you; unless they’re able to blow the deck out from under you, and that’s damn unlikely, as I see it.”
”Meantime – it seems likely we’ll be getting into troubles soon; you have any specific plans for what your attack strategy may be.”
While I wait eagerly for Dhaavan to gather his thoughts and lay out his plans for me so I can properly coordinate any efforts with him; my mind tacks course to the rumblings I’ve heard about the unhappiness that the dwarf and his sorcery uncorked.
I fit some tobacco to my mouth, and begin to chew a bit, as I ponder that quandary.
”You know lad – I’d not worry overmuch about the dwarf, eh?” I say in a non-committal voice.
”If I’m not mistaken, we’re hot for dark waters soon – and if that’s the truth of it, than we’ll all be in the chop when we toss grapples. Hell, lad – the entire thing may just as well be damn right crazy, eh? Why – next thing you know we’ll be leaping across decks, hacking and slashing with cutlasses, hatchets, sabers, or what have you… Meantime, there’ll be a lot of other action going on, I’d warrant – spells, arrows – who knows what else… not to mention the general nonsense of running across an uneven deck dripping with sea spray and blood.”
I shrug a little.
"Lot of bad things can happen in a mess like that – even to mates you’d rather be careful with. Risky business on the decks of a pitching ship in a mixed fight… Lots of things could go wrong – lots of potential for accidents, eh?”
”You don’t know what could happen next, in such a fracas – a quick thrust for a villain and you might end up spitting your mate on a poor stroke – and if you’re aiming something into a melee from a distance; you never know – even the best marksman can misfire. Then; through no fault of your own – one of your own crew may wind up dead because of a dreadful accident.”
I glance the long way down to the revelers below during the bloody hour; my eyes flicking over all of them – including the dwarf.
”Luckily for you, you’ll not be in the thick of that mess,” I add breezily.
”Nay – you’ll be aloft with the ranged fighters… And them that’s handy with melee weapons will be thirty feet below you and on another ship, like as not – good thing, too… I know that in the middle of that, I’d want to make sure that none from a distance won’t accidentally shoot the wrong target…”
”Of course,” I add speculatively ”It would be damn hard to prove a person up here hit a mate on purpose, I reckon. A body’d have be avoiding watching their step in a knife fight to see the person all the way up here – and they’d have to see that person shooting deliberate like at the wrong target, and they’d have to see the shot hit the wrong target, not just as a mistake, but something on purpose, and right in the thick of battle…”
I shake my head in helpless frustration.
”Hell, lad – I’d hate to be the person watching all of that; why – if it was me, it doesn’t seem likely I could even prove bloody wrong-doing. Hell, even if I was standing next a person who tried to hit an ally on purpose – why; how’d I know that? After all, in a battle stray blows happen all the time, even stray spells can happen…”
I spit to the water far below, than turn and grin.
”Anyhow – so… what exactly was your strategy if we tango with another on the seas… If you don’t mind me asking; I’d rather know where it’d be a good place for me to stand when you're up here doing what you do best, eh?”
Than I turn to watch the stars, and politely await his answer.
While Jiro plays his harmonica, I’ll approach him one day and – seeing his work – listen for a moment.
Than, when he’s free – I’ll engage him in conversation.
”Ahoy, Jiro-san!” I call out.
I watch him, seeing the young lad with his mop of red hair look up.
”Hell, lad – what’s the matter with you?” I say, my face looking serious.
”You know, when I met you, you were all about dancing a jig, or fencing with haiku thrusts, and so on… Now what the bloody hell's gotten into you, eh?”
I glance over at Plugg, but say nothing, my eyes flicking back to Jiro.
”You’re better than this, lad – you’ve got a handy gift of gab, and you’ve got talent to boot to with both word and blade – hell, I’ve seen it when you open your mouth, and it’s fair enough to hear.”
”Don’t let them there baka wako ruin your bloody fun, lad. And don’t be worrying about your brother; wherever the gods have him. If it’s his karma to stand victorious – he’ll do it. If that’s not his karma – than he’ll meet his fate with honor, and either he’ll join the Celestial realms or await the 40 days for his spirit to be reborn, neh?”
”Meantime, by every god living, dead and yet to be – snap out of it, eh? You’re better than this morose behavior – act like it, lad; show a little pox-mucked spirit – and if not, maybe I’ll just have to push you to it… En Garde” I suddenly bark out in challenge.
But instead of drawing iron or steel – I draw a different weapon for him to fence with - wordplay:
The fox kami sleeps
So it seems to the hunter;
Wise men will wait, though
When the kami wakes –
A foolish hunter loses his prey
But I am patient
Still – what is patience?
You may measure it; they say –
- and not reach the end…
”Well, then, lad… Where’s your spirit – you going to sit there in melancholy – or toss me a bloody riposte,” I say with a gleam in my eye.
While working with her on the carpentry work, I watch her and Variel during the day.
”Begging your pardon, Miss Taneththir,” I say, pausing from my work to pound the planks into place; than, admiring both my carpentry and mental alliteration – I continue in my speech.
”How fair an archer are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
”I mean to say – if you’ve ever handled a bow – that’d be a fair thing; but I’m more curious on what experience you’ve had handling unusual weapons.”
I glance to the deck, than I check the angel of the shadows, measuring them carefully gauging the time.
”I know you’ve been to see a fair bit – but have you ever seen what a good volley from fire arrows can do?” I add in a mild manner.
”They’re hell on ships, as you may know… It’s damn hard to put out a fire, on a ship – as ironic as that may seem… And if they’re not snuffed out fast; you end up loosing rigging, which of course can cause your sails to blow apart from the reefings…”
”Most ropes are made of hemp; and a little tar to keep them well hitched so they don’t come apart… means they burn pretty easy,” I add.
”Sails are different, though – the heavy canvas doesn’t burn worth a damn – at least – not very easy at all… Of course, if a large amount of fuel was dumped on hard near sails and rigging – it could cause a whole ship to be losing it’s speed and soon be dead in the water…”
”You ever used fire arrows before? Or make ‘em? They’re pretty easy to make,” I add.
”Best thing for it is to take heavy strips of cloth and soak them in oil – then you just sprinkle the rags with a little bit of black powder…” I pause looking up with her, and give her a wink ”oh – “black powder” – yeah… well; that’s kind of like “The Magic of Science” – sorcery for lads who bothered to read something other than magic, eh?” I add with a grin, than go back to my quick rundown.
”Anyhow – you soak the rags in oil – sprinkle the inside a bit with black powder – pitch works well, too – or lard… but anyhow – you do that; ready arrow, take a loose aim and have a lad with a light ignite your arrow just before you let it fly. You got about six seconds before that arrow hits, and the black powder goes up into a big Whoosh – as the fire catches and smokes – it’ll light up the target in a nice wide spread.”
”Of course,” I say pulling out a piece of jerky and chewing it down a moment ”it’d help a hell of a lot if the target you were aiming for was already dowsed well with oil… If that happens, than you’d be in for some real fun, as soon as such an arrow hits.”
I keep working a moment, swallowing the jerky.
”Anyhow – next time you’re free during the poxing “bloody hour” why don’t you find me – I’ll teach you how to make a few – and maybe if we can get some flasks of oil – we may be able to some of them, eh?”
”Anyhow – think about it, eh?” I say, than I go back to work.
Sko grins at Dhavaan. "My truth is that "I am" and the Shark simply hunts. "Where" isn't relevant in this sense. I trust your artistic vision to come up with something appropriate."
"I kept the poison sacs from the reefclaws if anyone has any use for them. I don't know how long they'll keep. Keeping them seemed like a good idea but I really have no idea what to do with them."
"Hey, Fishgut, I need your help with this rum situation. If I don't drink it, I get lashed. If I do, it always hits me hard, I can't think straight, and I end up getting lashed. I don't know why it hits me so roughly but everytime I've had it my head just fogs up. Isn't there anything I can put in it to help lighten the kick a little bit?"
I listen to Sko with a please expression.
”That’s damn handy lad…” I add with a grin.
”That poison is a type that is effective if it breaks the skin and mixes into your blood,” I say.
”If we could empty the sacs delicately into some empty vials – then dip some arrow heads into them – next time we get into a fight, the arrows could do some actual damage. Specifically – they’d hit the targets; and the targets would feel their very strength slowly ebb from their muscles… It wouldn’t even kill them – just leave them weak and helpless, fit for whatever needs getting done.”
My eyes seem to go a bit frosty at this point.
”You still work in the kitchen’s, don’t you Sko?” I ask him, my voice growing softer, a touch of svelte in it, despite the rhetorical statement.
”I’m only curious because I wondered about the existence of the swine below…”
”Are you familiar with swine; or hogs – or boars in general?” I continue, pleasantly.
”Very good eating on them… but they’re generally filthy animals… they’ll eat anything that is tossed into their slops…. anything,” I say, giving him a gentle smile.
”I know this truth very well… aye, indeed – they will consume whatever may fall into their slops… Imagine, than, if you will – something that fell into those slops – completely helpless, completely unable to move, with no strength – no ability to rouse oneself from the filth… and able to do nothing but scream as they hurry forward,” I say, my eyes searching the crew suddenly, as if looking for someone.
Than, realizing I have been talking at length regarding a somewhat unusual comment, I stop myself and shake myself out of the distracted topic.
”Ah, me – how vulgar that was. Apologies – it was quite rude of me, you now. And I should say that I simply can’t abide bad manners… Again, my apologies… it was quite unsavory for someone to make such suggestions; especially for a doctor to make such suggestions…” I add with a shy smile.
”Well – in any case… I’ll happily assist you in extracting that poison, and doing whatever you may need me to,” I add politely.
”If you’ll excuse me – I’m suddenly feeling a trifle hungry – I think I’ll find something to snack on,” I say as I leave Sko, and casually make my way toward someone in the crew that I happen to notice from the door to the galley.
Thanking Variel again for his help in procuring me some minor things from Grok, I sit on deck and watch him for a while during the “bloody hour”.
Seeing his usual dancing, I decide that – for once – I would like to participate in the project, and decide that I shall add some “accompaniment” to the dancing; namely, a few words of song…
Pausing a moment, I glance at the crew and let them know I will sing something.
”Ahem – alright lads, well… this is an oldy… well; it’s an oldy where I come from…” I add with a bit of a nervous smile.
Turning to Rosie and Jiro, I speak quickly to them –
”Alright guys, this is “blues riff” for the beat, uh – watch me for any changes and, uh – try to keep up…”
I'm a sailor peg
And I lost my leg
Climbing up the topsails
I lost my leg
I'm shipping to Sargava – Whoa ho ho
I'm shipping to Sargava – Whoa ho ho
I'm shipping to Sargava – Yo Ho HO!
I'm shipping off – To find my wooden LEG
I'm a sailor peg
And I lost my leg
Climbing bloody topsails
I lost my leg
I'm shipping to Sargava – Whoa ho ho
I'm shipping to Sargava – Whoa ho ho
I'm shipping to Sargava – Yo Ho HO!
I'm shipping off – TO FIND MY WOODEN LEG!
Than, after that shameless attempt at performance – I let the others go continue their merriment.
The minutes turn into hours – and the hours days – despite it all, I feel a sense of malaise coupled with general stagnation. Sensing that this growing unease comes from something beyond the vessel, I decide, almost against my will – that I will turn my eyes from the mortal world, and instead seek the immortal world – namely; the gods.
Therefore, I shall take a night watch and climb the rigging to the fighting top, there to watch the stars – but also to offer a word of prayer.
”Oh gods – here me now,” I begin, once I have reached the summit and enjoy the cool chill of the air as I look around me.
”You know my heart; my dreams, my hopes and purposes more than any I sail with – you know what I hunger for – you know what I seek – and you know what questions plague my heart and soul,” I continue.
”Hear my voice – hear my petition to you: Give me what my heart yearns for – let me walk forward on the path you have prepared for me deliberately and with unhindered step. I humble myself before you and pour out the questions of my heart – which you know by seeing my mind from afar and without me even needing to open my mouth in supplication – I ask that you surrender a moment of your time to answer those things that strive within my heart and give voice to some clarity at the troubles that plague me, illuminating for me the answers to the questions my heart would know best.”
I wait, than – watching the heavens – eager to see if there is some sort of cosmic sign; a shooting star – a bird’s song – anything – something – yet my logical mind tells me that such things wouldn’t matter; I would likely dismiss it as coincidence. Even so, my heart is still moved, and I am hungry for answers.
Drawing forth my mother’s dagger – I place it on my palm.
”Gods – immortal beings that govern all things – I seek answers to the mysteries that you know best – yet I sense my petition means nothing without payment – therefore, I offer than this gift of blood to make it so; help me – answer me the questions in my heart so that I may at least feel your presence has not wholly left me.”
”I give you this blood to make it so,” I intone firmly.
Observing Rain's quiet observation and the digestion of my suggestion via fire arrows, I continue to work and offer some follow-up opinions.
"Well, in any case - it's a standard method of combat - useful in a fight, as you may know; and handy if you're trying to scatter and confuse an enemy."
"Additionally it has the advantage of distracting their spell casters, as - unless they're actually properly trained and motivated - only a spell caster will be used to put out fires. Most crews today are rather lackadaisical on such matters... That is the regret with magic; sailors become too dependent on it; instead of relying on muscle, backbone, sweat and - most especially - brains."
"Of course, this goes back to tactics," I add as I haul up a rope attached to some more boards.
"If I had the opportunity the first thing I'd aim for is caster's - from a range - take them out at once; than you disable the majority of their firepower and other tricks. Make sure you do mop up right away with priests, shamans, clerics - that sort of thing... Generally that's the next target, as I see it - those types have a handy way of not only rather "mundane" uses, like healing the wounded - but you'll find on the sea they have other more complicated issues. A priest of the gods or nature can be their primary propulsion unit; if they can summon a storm - or direct the winds... and of course, if they have the chance to call up elemental creatures of the very wind and water; they can move a ship quick-smart in the waves with ease."
"Now," I say spitting to the leeward "than you run into basic superstition - and some logic behind it. Most sailors agree it's bad luck to take a caster aboard - and twice as bad to kill a holy man - next thing you do and have the crew'll say you're a bloody Johah for sure; hell - you'd be luckier to just kill an albatross," I add with a twinkle in my eye.
"As for me - I say a pox on such foolishness. We're all here for a purpose - but whatever that purpose is; we can't succeed at it if we're dead. The primary threat to any sailor is the enemy's chief instruments of destruction - followed by his chief elements of defense. In both cases - that means casters - generally those with an arcane bent; followed by those of a divine bent."
"So keep your eye open for each, I'd say - and when you make your move - try to find out from a distance who's who - watch for those who can cast spells; look for holy symbols - or lightly armored types... those would be my primary targets."
"And if there's any indication on how an enemy ship may be run - chances are that without their casters you've essentially ripped apart they're entire sailing talent. Hell; I've heard some sailors can't even navigate without casters.... Can't motivate speed out of their ship without a caster, can't find their bloody longitude... You kill their casters a lot of crews may simply throw down their arms; because they know they won't be able to get home if they don't have their precious magic..." I say with the tiniest note of contempt.
"Don't get me wrong; I honor the gods, and I respect magic - but when you rely too much on magic to take care of you, and you lose that bit of power to get things done - you're dead in the water; in more cases than not."
"You don't see that problem with science," I add.
"Science only unlocks the brain's potential - it's not some magical tool to get things done instantly."
"Why - imagine if you had the awesome power for one man to simply kill an entire army - hell; an entire nation with science! Bah, you don't see that; but a spellcaster can do it, sitting in a comfortable room thousands of miles away - just a wave of his hand and death and destruction... I think that kind of distance from a fight creates a tremendous arrogance and general contempt for life; they don't consider people when they're not in the thick of things; when they're not in the middle of a battle - they forget about the true horror of war - they simply utter the command, and poof - they end up wiping out a nation!" I add with a shake of my head.
"But take their more mundane powers, and how it weakens them; like, for example, they don't even bother to learn how to read and write a bloody language, simply because they can just cast a spell to solve the problem and it automatically translates it for them; you don't see science doing that either. Hell; even a priest erodes the natural harmony of man and nature when they magically create an instant feast - instead of allowing a family to till the earth or fish the seas for food... just a wave of the hand and stab of a finger - and in less than a minute you have an entire instant meal hot and ready; and no work done to appreciate the effort, and without that appreciation - you don't even really enjoy the meal."
"No - you don't see such tom-foolery in science. Yes, certainly science will provide you with tools to aid you in your work; better weapons, better tools to till the earth, or navigate a bit easier - but you still have to carry them and use them, and know how to use them..."
"And yes - there's better methods of organization for learning; but it still takes hours of skull-sweat to sit down and read a book and learn things to commit the facts into your head. And that's not easy, but I find that you remember the facts better when you have to use effort to check them, as opposed to some "spell check" which does it for you automatically and in which a person doesn't even bother to learn; since they can always use the spells to check for them, so why bother?"
I sigh, hauling the rope and boards over onto the deck of the fighting top while continuing to work.
"You mark my word, Miss Taneththir; science is the true way of it - it keeps your brain sharp - and doesn't create little "cheats" that let's you go soft. In time, I think that magic will ruin people - they'll rely too much on that power, instead of some good old fashioned book learning to get them through in a pinch."
"Of course - the real point in these little observations is this: in a fight - you take out the casters first... Half the time a magically dependent crew is likely to just simply surrender - because without magic, they don't have a chance," I add dryly.
As I put some final touches on a modest sketch of myself and some of the pressed gang members, I hear Jiro behind me.
Noticing his observations, I smile a bit, a trifle embarrassed.
"Thank you kindly, lad," I say.
"Well, in truth - it's not bad; no... though I'll admit, I suppose it could use some work."
"The lines are little too square for my taste - I'm more used to drawing out charts and some basic drafting style of blueprints; don't really have the true artists' eye, I suppose... And damned if I could get the clothing right... Other than you and Dhaavan, it's not always easy to get a sense of what the crew will wear from day to day... Not everyone wears the same clothes or gear, so you have to kind of rely on natural features, like Valeros's leg, or Rain's hair; or Variel's sword... or Sko's... well; that lad there is Sko, and that's the important part," I add with a brief cough and a look that says "Damn it man, I'm a Doctor not an Artist!".
"Still, it was the best I could do with what I have with these limited artist's tools," I say holding up the ink quill.
"When you work with ink; you end up using it to create depth, tone, and dimension... naturally you want to sketch it out first in either charcoal or lead... but it's the inker who brings the real depth into the art," I add somewhat importantly.
Sensing the comment, I quickly forestall it.
"And no - an inker is not simply a "tracer"... they do bring their own style into it."
"Of course, in this case I'm doing both sketching and inking... well; at least, I'm doing my best at it," I add with a shrug; than I rouse myself from my observations.
"But what I am saying - I gave you that bloody haiku challenge, and you don't offer my a rebuttal or retort? Lad - you're slipping - and I know you're better than that! Why don't you come up with something quick-smart, or I'm bound to think you're not much for the poetry anymore, and that doesn't seem right to me at all."
Glancing around at the others, you would see at this point I'm not speaking secrets.
"Of course - if anyone else is up for a little verbal sparring in the poetry field - I'm all for it," I say a little louder.
"Hell, I'll take on any challenger - lad or lass," I add with a grin, but a roguish gleam in my eye wondering if anyone is planning on picking up the gauntlet and trying their luck.
Still lad, you don't want to lean hard on anyone, it's likely been a long day for them; what with all the chores and so on, I think, considering things a moment.
Aye, just and right, fair and true... And sure, half the crew are asleep or doing something else - but the ones that are around looking for action? Well; I guess when they hear me, at least they'll have something to do before the next day dawns. I guess that's something... But ease up a bit, they've had their hard days, too, so just don't go leaning too hard on any of them...
Nodding at that thought, I say nothing more. Instead, I lean back and consider those who are still around on deck, knowing that some are already sleeping or perhaps working on another project. If they're open to a challenge, I'm all ears. And if not - well... there's always the next "bloody hour".
From atop the structure on the mast, Dhaavan looks down at the ship with approval. "I'm not like some spell-slingers, Flynn. See I stick with my summons, prefer eagles cause i got a connection with a flight o' the birds in another plane and it's easy enough to call 'em. Plus they fair savage beasts and moblie. So really I simply gotta keep out of the way of damage and can call up one raptor after another to do my fighting. Then in a pinch o can toss out some acid or tire a man with a touch just in case."
Dhaavan nods to himself, "My pets get there into the thick of things, flanking with allys, clawing and pecking viciously, and taking up space on a battle-field to keep the enemy where we want. Creatures with the gift of flight add an element to the mix that most are not expecting. That's what I really bring to the table, the ideal ally for any situation. The unexpected!" Dhaavan gives Flynn a wicked grin recalling the dolphins he summoned under the water, and the Eagle in their brawl. THis is clearly not Dhaavan's only set of creatures to call upon, other better suited to a task may soon make an appearance.
While the deck is being constructed, Dhaavan tries to make himself busy around the project, although not seeming to contribute much, the young Varisian is a bit of a fixture on the deck, runnign about, hauling ropes, and catching rats.
As Flynn speaks on tactics and strategy regarding Magic Users, Dhaavan finds time to approach and listen to him. "Interesting views on casting versus science." Dhaavan says using the Aquan Language. Continuing in common. I can cast no such spell of tongues, so i try to learn on my own, and a smart caster solves as many problems as they can without wasting their magic. Sure there's a few basic sorts of cantrips i can throw around all day,"[/b] he notes creating sparks that float around his fingers with a little trick, "But any real magic takes it out of a body and yea need to be careful with it. Its really a matter of intelligence and effort both with magic and yer science. Think about it, when my peoples wandered the worlds on foot or horse alone they still carried everything they need, but now days without their wagons they're lost, dont' know how to make a fire without a cooking set, not fix a cut without some nice prepped potions and herbs. Missing out on the wild and self-reliance without a single spell too. Not that its a bad thing, I'd say. Just what all things really can be equal. Mages just been at their work longer."
On tactics, Dhaavan mentions "On the same token of taking out enemy casters, removing the threats to our mages is valuable. I'd really hate to see Peppery peppered an' full o' arrows, unable to get off a spell. And i don't just say that for myself, but if you have the choice to drop an archer what's harassing me an' Longfarthing, or their caster, I'd say it'd be better to get the archer in some circumstances, cause a couple eagles and one shot from Her and that enemy caster's gone and the two o' us can keep slinging." Dhaavan nods at the wisdom of Flynn's words, not particularly pleased to consider himself a prime target for the enemy. "Not that you should change yer tactics, but dealing with threats to us is important as well."
In the evening when Sho aproaches Dhaavan for Ink, and FLynn breaks out in song, the young man joins in the revelry
He's not good, but he is working and is more absent-mindedly singing along, occasionally getting the location wrong, shipping off to Stygia as opposed to Sargava.
While he hums along, he also ink's Sko's flesh.
Dhaavan inks lines down Sko's right that seem to be almost animated rivulets of water flowing along where his veins and arteries would run beneath his skin. The "currents" of Sko's life-blood drawn on his skin as if in the sea, flecks that look almost like sea life swim within the channels. The design of the veins, when observed from a distance, reveals a hunting shark. Hungry eyes bore into the observer from the Ilizmagorti's powerful shoulder.
The image of the shark has only those two layers, lines that make up the animal reveal a new picture from up close, but it is not so realistic as Sandara's which is both a living monster and a raging storm, but the Stylized image is still quality and takes up the better part of the night as Dhaavan gets lost in his work, ignoring the sweat on his brow, not realizing until he is finished that he feel uncomfortable and fatigued.
** spoiler omitted **
”Of course, of course… that’s very commendable, I must say. I have seen your work, and I think it is a very handy thing for you to have on your side… Naturally, of course, I wasn’t suggesting anything – just making observations on the nuances of ranged combat,” I say with a dead pan smile.
”Still,” I add breaking off suddenly from the topic ”There are other variables to consider. For example – you aren’t much of a fighter, that I’ve seen… have you ever considered carrying a back-up to your sorcery? Something that can intimidate with ease, and something that can do a great amount of damage, with very little skill to use?” I add amicably.
”For example – in addition to handling a dagger, and my modest skill with a rapier – I also prefer using more… scientific methods of combat.”
”Specifically – black powder weapons,” I add.
”Not everyone is proficient in them – but for you; it wouldn’t matter much. Simply holding one often presents an intimidating presence; and it can do wonders if you ever run out of spells…”
”In any case – it’s just something to consider,” I say with a nod.
”And – if you ever decide to pursue it – I can help craft one for you…” I add.
”But in any case; as you’ll be using summoning spells – it seems unlikely that being up here would be a bit of a waste… after all; this may put you a bit out of range; yes? But of course, if you did have a bow, or a wand, or some other ranged powers to use in fight… well… perhaps it is wise you don’t have such things. After all; you’re not very skilled in them – and if you did use one, there’s no telling what could happen to the lads below... After all, from this range, it would be very hard for you to be able to even determine friend or foe... But than, you know your business best, of course.”
While the deck is being constructed, Dhaavan tries to make himself busy around the project, although not seeming to contribute much, the young Varisian is a bit of a fixture on the deck, runnign about, hauling ropes, and catching rats.
** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **...
”Indeed, Mister… Mister Dhaavan,” I say amicably – suddenly realizing that like many people who claim “celebrity” status – it seems that Mister Dhaavan needs only one name…
”There is no reason to change tactics, as I see it – unless otherwise ordered…” I add with a pause.
”But until that time – I think the main duties of any boarding party during a ship-to-ship combat is to secure the enemy vessel while eliminating the potential threat forthwith. And for now – I believe that those who can use magic to have the greatest potential for a threat to our company.”
Hearing his comments on my observations regarding magic, naturally, I decide to make a brief, but more clear, response to help clarify things.
”Begging your pardon, sir - but I think you mistake my meaning a bit,” I respond politely, swinging another rope toward me and hauling some more boards upwards.
”Now – I’m not by any means eschewing magic – far from it. For example – take the good Mister Nightstorm here,” I say with a nod to Variel.
”He’s the perfect example of what should be done with any magic,” I add.
”Consider; he’s hardy – strong, quick on his feet, intelligent, learned in reading – but by no means a mere scholar of the world; he’s had true life experience. He mixes both magic and steel in a fine combination – and such things deserve respect.”
”No – what I’m referring to is a personal opinion that magic is a gateway to power; and that all power, if not carefully controlled, leads to a slippery slope of destruction, or at least, it can lead to it.”
I swing the boards around to me, making sure that they do not fall to the deck below.
”Magic is a real force in the world; just like science… But consider science, though,” I add, taking the boards in my arms, than laying them flat on the deck of the Fighting Top and continuing to put them into place as I talk.
”Science allows man to create useful tools which improve our chances in the natural world. The pulley – for example – allows me to lessen the energy needed to haul these boards up here… and a mill; by harnessing wind, or water, depending – allows a miller to grind grist into grain much more quickly and with less toil.”
”Even so; there is still a tangible connection to the natural world that I believe exists through science. Even with a plow – for a farmer to plow forty acres, for example – that still takes him roughly forty days of work. During that time he’s working with the fields, his hands touching the earth; feeling the seeds – feeling the crops, seeing them bloom and blossom…”
”All this is faster with the invention of the plow; true. But a magic user may simply order several “Unseen Servants” do the job. Now, in one day of work – a magic user may have done the job of – for example – six or seven men. And all he need do is order the magical servants to work, than retire into his chambers and do nothing.”
”Now – while that seems pleasant enough; consider the implications. The magic user is no longer in touch with the world around him – he no longer has a connection with his project; in fact – even the few minutes of ordering his magical servants to do the work seem like a chore. He grows impatient with the most mundane of tasks, always eager for his own personal leisure time.”
”But in that eagerness, he has forgotten how to be happy with the work at hand. He doesn’t remember the simple things in life – such as the smell of fresh tilled earth; or the joy of seeing the first blossoms of spring.”
Seeing their looks, I hurry on.
”Yes, that’s a fairly esoteric point, to be sure – but when magic removes from a person the tangible reality of the world and replaces it with instant gratification, than I think it erodes a quality of joy from people’s spirit in what the world has to offer us.”
I clear my throat at what I presume to be the obvious looks of scorn from the officers who may be in earshot – but I get to my next point more quickly.
”Yet a more practical point is that magic also separates us from reality. Again – consider Mister Nightstorm,” I say with a wide sweep of my hand at the elf.
”When he does battle, it is in the thick of combat; he smells the fear sweat on his enemies and friends alike – the warm coppery taste of blood fills his mouth if he is struck hard in a fight, and he is forced to endure that unsavory flavor – the smells of a body voiding itself in death; the stench of urine and feces in the mud… All of it he must endure… Never mind the sounds of screaming all around him – from friend and foe alike – praying it is an enemy, praying it isn’t him – and praying that he can survive another day; and praying also that after such battle he can forget the horror of it,” I add grimly.
”All of this molds a warrior – it gives them some sense of reality when combat is entered upon. They are forced to recall with crystal clarity these truths; and – hopefully – it reminds them that war is not so glorious as it may seem in a drawing room hundreds of miles away… but often an ugly thing when even the victor feels little joy or pleasure in the outcome.”
I pause a moment; considering my own grim observations.
”I think that many powerful magi are free to cause great havoc from far distances – and I think those distances can make them forget too easily the realities of what it means to kill another.”
”But, in any case,” I say, my mood suddenly downshifting quickly ”I am by no means suggesting that magic is a great evil. Why, that is as laughable as the wild barbarian tribes of Ludd suggesting that “technology” is somehow an evil simply because it uses tools instead of bare hands in the fields.”
”No, instead I am simply suggesting that magic should be no more than a tool we use to help us to enjoy all that life has to offer; and not as a crutch that is used to allow us to avoid the challenges of life in lieu of an existence filled with nothing but sloth, idleness and indolence. I think that using too much magic – and even as laughable as it sounds, yes, even technology – one day perhaps… that using too much of either could allow a person to avoid what life has to offer and simply “exist”, rather than “live”. I think if that happens that a person will feel an eventual sickness in the heart and soul, and such a disease does not end well for anyone… that’s all.”
In the evening when Sho aproaches Dhaavan for Ink, and FLynn breaks out in song, the young man joins in the revelry
[dice=Perform (Sing)]1d20+4
He's not good, but he is working and is more absent-mindedly singing along, occasionally getting the location wrong, shipping off to Stygia as opposed to Sargava.While he hums along, he also ink's Sko's flesh.
[dice=Craft]1d20+6
Dhaavan inks lines down Sko's right that seem to be almost animated rivulets of water flowing along where his veins and arteries would run beneath his skin. The "currents" of Sko's life-blood drawn on his skin as if in the sea, flecks that look almost like sea life swim within the channels. The design of the veins, when observed from a distance, reveals a hunting shark. Hungry eyes bore into the observer from the Ilizmagorti's powerful shoulder.The image of the shark has only those two layers, lines that make up the animal reveal a new picture from up close, but it is not so realistic as Sandara's which is both a living monster and a raging storm, but the Stylized image is still quality and takes up the better part of the night as Dhaavan gets lost in his work, ignoring the sweat on his brow, not realizing until he is finished that he feel uncomfortable and fatigued.
A certain nagging feeling hides inside Variel's brain but it isn't until the second day that he lets his mind wander enough for it to blossom fully. When it does, he almost drops the hammer he is holding. Leaning over to Rain, What's got Flynn so fired up to build a fighting platform anyways. I mean after the fight with the rats, his blood was running hot that he was a changed man and wanted to follow his heart, but I didn't think he would take it this far to be building attack platforms. Has he told why he is doing this? I would ask, but with our past I don't want him to take offense at the question. You get along with him better than I do so he ought understand if you ask him. It is a good idea, don't get me wrong, just I wouldn't have figured he would be helping the officers that pressed ganged us.
It nice up here. I like the fresh air and the scenery is quite nice. The view s better too. once again Variel slips the last part out almost unheard as he heads back over to continue working on the fighting platform.
Rain answers Variel in Elven,
"The bow is not my weapon of choice but I have used one before and with some success. My forest cousins are certainly expert at such ranged attacks. I have not made a fire arrow before, for I have had no need to. If someone can show me, I am sure I can mimic their craft. And it seems you know how it is done. I will try and aid you, if you so require it."
"I will observe those aboard the Wormwood and try to discern the magic users from the ordinary person. A holy symbol may be harder to discover if it isn't something worn around the neck and obvious. But like I said, I will keep my eyes open."
** spoiler omitted **
"Very good, than," I say with a grin.
"With the a fight seeming very likely, anything we can do to aid our chances in surviving such an outcome seems like an admirable plan."
"When we get the chance - I will show you how to make them - these fire arrows. As I said - they're fairly easy; but I doubt we'll need to do so soon. For now, I'm just as curious as learning how to extract some of that poison from those venom sacs taken from those foul crab-like creatures. If we can do that, I think we'll be well off for many eventualities."
"You are skilled in the lore of beasts; is that something you would also wish to learn of? I should warn you - extracting and using poison can be a touch dangerous. Even so - it does have its uses. So - what say you, lady? Are you interested?" I add, the question seeming more of a challenge, but somewhat good-naturedly, my eyes daring her to gamble as I continue to grin.
** spoiler omitted **
"Very good, lass," I say with a loud bark of laughter.
"That would be very useful, I have no doubt... But, specifically, I meant noticing such users on an enemy vessel. If we were to see one on the horizon, and be ordered to board her - why, I would think the first threat on such a ship would be a spellcaster indeed. As such, I would do what I could to eliminate that threat as soon as possible. That's all I meant when I suggested looking for such folk..."
"Of course," I add speculatively "you do raise a fine point. It is generally a good thing to notice any enemy spellcaster - no matter what ship they sail on," I add with a knowing wink.
Rain ponders the extraction of poisons. "One would need not only lore but a steady hand and observant eye. And time to undertake such a process -- for to rush is a fool's ways. I will offer my aid in what needs to be done to ensure we are prepared."
Rain did not like to be laughed at. That she misinterpreted what the doctor had been saying was not entirely her fault.
"Aye, spellcasters onboard an opposing vessel. Understood." Rain gives a brisk nod and gets back to work.
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Previous post
Listening to Flynn and Dhaavan talk, it seems that most of it is harmless banter and theory.since it is different than his style he lets them continue to talk without giving much input. However, Variel's blood starts to boil when that low and dirty Flynn rats him out by discussing his abilities in front of other crewmembers and officers.
Moving up behind him on the fighting platform, Variel spins him around interrupting the talk between Flynn and Variel. Hey Flynn shut your trap before someone shuts it for you. I asked you before in private and hinted at it when with others to keep your thoughts to yourself and mind your own business. If you can't get that through that skull of yours then we are going to be at odds again. I was just thinking that we put our diffences behind us when you stab me in the back. Are you ever going to learn. You know what never mind. Do what you want and don't think of anyone else but yourself and the congratulations you'll receive from those that press ganged you in the first place. The platform looks complete. I am heading down. the rest of the compliments that Flynn was giving him rolled off his back. Never again am I going to tell that man anything about myself if I want it to remain quiet. He does not know when to be quiet and when to speak.
** spoiler omitted **
Seeing your look, I offer an apologetic smile; then speak quickly in elven to make sure we're not overheard or understood.
"Sorry lass, I wasn't trying to laugh at you - not at all. I just found the potential double entendre somewhat amusing... You know; seeing that the plan was to look for enemy spellcasters to eliminate right away - and that your mind tacked first in the direction of searching on our very ship for enemies to eliminate."
"I didn't mean anything harsh by it - just thought it was funny was all; but I'm sorry if I caused offense. That wasn't my intention," I say sincerely.
Rain looks back up at Flynn, her eyes not giving away much, and her mind taking in what he is saying. Once again, she responds to him in Elven, not wanting to be overheard by the officer standing near them.
"I accept your apology, Flynn. My mind is on our present situation whereas yours has tacked many nautical miles forward. It is bound to happen, for we are different people." Rain's voice does not hold a harsh edge for she is simply plain-speaking.
Previous post
Listening to Flynn and Dhaavan talk, it seems that most of it is harmless banter and theory.since it is different than his style he lets them continue to talk without giving much input. However, Variel's blood starts to boil when that low and dirty Flynn rats him out by discussing his abilities in front of other crewmembers and officers.
Moving up behind him on the fighting platform, Variel spins him around interrupting the talk between Flynn and Variel. Hey Flynn shut your trap before someone shuts it for you. I asked you before in private and hinted at it when with others to keep your thoughts to yourself and mind your own business. If you can't get that through that skull of yours then we are going to be at odds again. I was just thinking that we put our diffences behind us when you stab me in the back. Are you ever going to learn. You know what never mind. Do what you want and don't think of anyone else but yourself and the congratulations you'll receive from those that press ganged you in the first place. The platform looks complete. I am heading down. the rest of the compliments that Flynn was giving him rolled off his back. Never again am I going to tell that man anything about myself if I want it to remain quiet. He does not know when to be quiet and when to speak.
** spoiler omitted **
My eyes widen in genuine surprise. I had completely forgotten about his desire to keep such things secret. And although it was an honest mistake, it seemed that once again the elf would not accept anything but his own way of things.
After all – having a spellbook, enchanting a weapon – it didn’t occur to me that such things would be private. Anyway, sooner or later it would be discovered by the others – why not openly, in front of people. Than they would praise your skill and value you before hand, rather than be suspicious of what powers you might also have after the fact.
If they saw you were hiding something, who knows what else you might hide? After all – one thing leads to another very quickly.
I glance at Rain, who is still there – and also Dhaavan, who I believe is still about (given that we were just talking about this point).
”I’m terribly sorry about all that – for all of you. I didn’t think that having a conversation would elicit such a reaction – clearly I was wrong. Anyway – I hope I didn’t offend anyone else today; but – if I did, it wasn’t my plan. I just came up here to work on a project,” I say with a shrug, watching his tantrum below.
I look at Rain.
”He spends a lot of time with you – you know him better than the rest of us, I guess… do you think I should try apologizing to him again? I mean – at this point I’m pretty much open to whatever works. It really was an honest mistake – but if you have a suggestion for how I can make it better; any of you – I’ll listen to it,” I say glancing than from Rain to Dhaavan, wondering if either of them has any ideas.
Rain looks back up at Flynn, her eyes not giving away much, and her mind taking in what he is saying. Once again, she responds to him in Elven, not wanting to be overheard by the officer standing near them.
** spoiler omitted **
"No worries, lass - and you're completely right; we are different people. Accidents are bound to happen, that's true - but that shouldn't keep us from being mates," I say with a smile.
"That said - I'll do what I can to respect your wishes, and try to keep things as private as possible - at least among this company, eh?" I say with a nod and a grin.
It's clear that - despite the confusion - I'm just happy to be friends. And if Rain is agreeable, she'll find me a good friend. At least - I'll do my best to make sure that happens.
Rain, looks to the officer, then in the direction of the retreating Variel, then back to Flynn.
"You made the decision for him, Flynn. That was not for you to make. If Variel wanted to maintain his privacy than he was entitled to it. That you thought and did otherwise is concerning and I can see why he would be angry with you. You did not sit down with all our mates and tell them what you are doing. That they distrust your sudden change of heart is on you, not them. I do not believe he will hear your apology if you were to chase him down and give it again. I will go find him and have a word to him. But tonight, I advise you to sit down with our pressed mates and tell them what's in your mind and all about your project, especially why you are doing what you are at this point in time."
Rain, looks to the officer, then in the direction of the retreating Variel, then back to Flynn.
** spoiler omitted **
I listen to Rain’s suggestion; specifically her thoughts of having to act as a mediator between the two of us over a misunderstanding. I also notice her comments about my actions, and docket her opinion of me away for some other time.
Hmmm…
I rub my chin thoughtfully for a moment, considering her offer.
”You know what Miss, begging your pardon, but don’t worry about it,” I say.
”I mean, I’m not telling you what to do – you want to talk to him – that’s okay, but quite frankly, I’m saying you don’t have to do it on my account.”
I glance at the rigging a moment.
”The thing is – we’ve gone round and round before. I say something, he listens in and jumps on my neck over it. I tell him I’m sorry for what he overheard offending him – he tells me to piss off. I tell him if he wants me to avoid him – I’ll do it –whatever he wants – it’s fine with me. He refuses to answer…”
”So I’ll tell you what – I swear on the soul of my mother that what I said now was an accident - you can believe me or not."
"But as for this business of talking to him for me? Actually, now that I'm thinking about, I gotta say no."
"I mean, I’m sorry, I can’t be having it, you know? I mean to say… what – whenever he’s got an issue with me, I have to approach you to go have it worked out between us? Hell, that's not fair to you. I mean, you're not his mother," I say with a frown.
"Nah - if he has a problem with me, he can talk to me direct, and we can try to get it worked out directly; but it's not fair for me to put you in the middle of this hash." I say with an emphatic shake my head.
”You know, I don’t know much about elven aging – hell, I’m no expert, but that refusing to talk unless someone paves the way strikes me as pretty immature.”
”I mean, okay, I get it. I offended him - I messed up. And now he’s got some issue with me. That's fine, I understand - I'd understand if I was in his shoes, too, I guess. But now what?"
"Well, as I see it, the best idea is that we can sit down and talk about it like normal adults do. But I tell you, if this keeps up - I mean to say, if any time I do something that makes him angry, even by accident - so that his plan is to just insult me, than walk away and refuse to talk to me unless someone else steps in between to smooth things over… Nah; it’s just not worth it.”
I look at her clearly.
”You know, I’m the same lad you met in the tavern Miss Taneththir – but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I’ve seen some dangerous things in the past few days – and I’ll be frank with you – I’m not going to keep fighting everything under the sun over misunderstandings or mistakes. I don't have the energy for it anymore."
"If he wants to talk it over with me, I’ll be completely open to listening; and I’ll do what I can to smooth things over on my end, if he wants me to. But I think he needs to grow up and get over himself, because this business about fighting among ourselves all the time over misunderstandings and accidents is counterproductive – and if he can’t see past that… Well; whatever,” I say with a shrug.
”Anyhow – sorry for talking at length. Wasn’t my intention. Meantime, I appreciate all your help in the project up here, that’s for sure.”
"I understand what you have said and shall respect your need to remedy it in the way you see fit." She bows her head.
"And it is wise to conserve one's energy for fiercer battles. Just remember that it helps to have trusted allies by your side and Variel may prove to be that for you, if you two can overcome these misunderstandings."
"I understand what you have said and shall respect your need to remedy it in the way you see fit." She bows her head.
"And it is wise to conserve one's energy for fiercer battles. Just remember that it helps to have trusted allies by your side and Variel may prove to be that for you, if you two can overcome these misunderstandings."
I nod.
”Sure, you’re right.”
”And like I said – I’m open to it completely. If he wants to talk to me, I’ll do what I can to smooth things over. I’m not sure how that’ll work – but I’ll try.”
I lower my eyes to the planks, satisfied that they’re stable.
”But anyhow – the thing is; I don’t want you to have to have to get in the middle of it. We’ve all got our chop on life’s waters to deal with – you don’t need my issues to be yours, too.”
”Well, I guess the thing to ask now is – what’s next?” I say to no one in particular, but anyone who has a suggestion – I’m open to it.