Ghari lingers in the bow with Ocelan and the rest of the sail-folding crew. Can't go wrong complimenting the boat "Your ship has a nice turn of speed. Feels like with the right wind she could outsail the breath of Krakis."
Fazaam waves acknowledgment of Alif's shouted order. He turns his attention back to wind, enjoying himself again for a moment before frowning at the storm clouds gathering. He absentmindedly pets Hasan.
"Well, this might get a little hairy. Oo, sorry." He says at Hasan's outraged squeal. "Still, a bad day in a storm is still better than an good day on the Sea Witch! He grins.
Shulim watches the shapely nurse walk off . . . perhaps a little too intently for when he turns around he finds his friends have wandered off!
Thankfully Shulim spots his friend before he wanders off too far.
"Oi Fudrick," Shulim says running after his gnomish friend, "where'd ya get ta, don't leave Ol' Shulim alone."
When he finally catches up he grabs the gnome by the arm: "are you forgetting about our plans?" he whispers, "dis wandering off alone just won't do. I'd expect dis sort o'ting from da big folk, but normal sized folk know better!
"Now dat we're alone me mate I got's some radder serious bidnes ta talk about," he says quickly scanning the hallways, "da gnomish girl? Da nurse? I call dibs on 'er. I saw 'er first and she's got different neck ware din you," Shulim says pointing to Fudrick's holy symbol, "and religious indifference is da number one cause of devoice (after money and children)" he adds in a whisper under his breath, "so believe me Fudrick I'm doing ya a favor here. Also I don't know if it was a coincidence dat she stumbled inta our room like dat, I'm not sure but I tink our host might be looking to dangle a little shapely carrot under our noses . . . and all-doe I'm not immune ta da womanly guiles, me master did teach me some tricks ta keep me from talking . . . about anyting important anyways!"
...
Hearing his name called Fudrick turns around. "Oh, sorry friend my mind must have been wandering in thought. You are right, we need to stick together."
After hearing Shulim out.
Face turning red he says in hushed tones, "You think I. I. Am going to compete for her? Shulim, my friend, she is the furthest thing from my mind right now." Looking around he continues in hushed tones, "I had a girl. We thought about marriage, kids, and learning the family business. But pirates waylaid those plans. I wouldn't feel right even thinking about Sexinon in that sort of way. Bringing justice to those guilty of my lifes destruction is what my life is devoted to right now." Smiling at him he claps him on the back, "Nothing else."
"Dat's some ting we need ta look into den," Shulim nods, "after we rescue da girl, and after we look inta dis business wit yer cousin. I'm sorry 'bout him by da way, wit all the excitement I never got the chance ta offer me' condolences. You been through a lot haven't ya? Da gods sure like ta test folk don't day?"
Fazaam wriggles on his perch, trying to loosen up stiff muscles.
"This isn't nearly as glamorous when there isn't anyone to show off for." He tells Hasan as the monkey hangs from the mast by his tail.
"Oh sure, show off and make it look easy why don'tcha." He mutters as he scans the deck for for Ghari and Marwan. He spies them working alongside the ship's sailors, and then spots Yrar next to the tiller.
"Good, if there is a foul wind among the crew, we should be able to catch a whiff of it." He pauses as he considers the possibility that their hired host may be, possible piracy and shady business dealings aside, exactly what he seems to be. A man with a boat, a job no one likes him for, and a taste for adventure yarns. Yeah, right. The elf shakes his head. "When did I get so cynical Hasan? Oh yes, The Sea @itch had something to do with that, too."
He returns his attention to the sea and the horizon, knowing he won't see his quarry, but hoping for a glimpse just the same. "And if Zerea doesn't know what payback is, she's about to find out!" He grins into the wind, mentally urging the ship to greater speed.
Shulim/Fudrick Int check DC10
"Dat's some ting we need ta look into den," Shulim nods, "after we rescue da girl, and after we look inta dis business wit yer cousin. I'm sorry 'bout him by da way, wit all the excitement I never got the chance ta offer me' condolences. You been through a lot haven't ya? Da gods sure like ta test folk don't day?"
"Yes, something we need to look into. Let's change the subject. Since we are together lets see what we can find out about our host and his crew." Winking at Shulim and nudging him with his elbow, "And maybe you will run into a certain lass? Just remember not to let her separate us."
Ocelor nods and smiles at Ghari. "This ship could fly if she had wings! The captain knows her and the sea well. You planning on staying with us long?"
Meanwhile Dishdash orders everyone to work at the mainsail, shortening it in so that the coming rain will not cause a rip. The deck cants a little more and Marwan can almost hear the water hiss as the dhow cuts through the sea.
Beside Yrar the sailor starts to grunt, fighting to keep the vessel towards the gathering clouds. "Yeh - you, give me dat hand."
Above Captain Alif points aloft and orders another three sailors to join Fazaam just in case of trouble.
Dishdash points at Marwan and the storm ahead. "You think you can start battening down the hatches? Wouldn't want his nibs salt pork to get too salty, would we?"
The two gnomes stand just outside their quarters on the same level as the main deck.
A door suddenly swings inwards opposite as [i]the Sailors Dream[i] leans a little more. There is a loud crash of metal pots and swearing coming from inside. A fat dwarf has slid into the corner wearing a large pot of stew. All around him, the kitchen tools are swaying and swinging.
"Me stew! Ruined! Karak Fuz Ukarz!" he continues as a small silvered dish falls on his head.
Ocelor nods and smiles at Ghari. "This ship could fly if she had wings! The captain knows her and the sea well. You planning on staying with us long?"
Meanwhile Dishdash orders everyone to work at the mainsail, shortening it in so that the coming rain will not cause a rip. The deck cants a little more and Marwan can almost hear the water hiss as the dhow cuts through the sea.
"I have business at our destination. If Krakis wills, I'll finish that and be in need of a job. Perhaps I could stay then."
Ghari lends a hand shortening the main.
Beside Yrar the sailor starts to grunt, fighting to keep the vessel towards the gathering clouds. "Yeh - you, give me dat hand."
Yrar stops his singing and aids the sailor in his task.
The two gnomes stand just outside their quarters on the same level as the main deck.
A door suddenly swings inwards opposite as [i]the Sailors Dream[i] leans a little more. There is a loud crash of metal pots and swearing coming from inside. A fat dwarf has slid into the corner wearing a large pot of stew. All around him, the kitchen tools are swaying and swinging.
"Me stew! Ruined! Karak Fuz Ukarz!" he continues as a small silvered dish falls on his head.
Fudrick jumps out of the way of the door grabbing Shulim by the collar. Grinning at Shulim he says, "Lets help him get that cleaned up. It would be very unGnomish not to."
Shulim scratches his head, "dat sounds suspiciously like work," he says with a serious face, "but getting in wit da cook is always a good idea."
The rain begins to fall on the dhow. Everywhere around is darkening and the waves are getting a bit higher.
However the Captain and his crew seem to know their business. The storm isn't that strong and they are making it look easy.
A sailor reaches Fazaam and hooks both legs. "You keep that head below the masttop or you may be hurt! I be Tenimith of Sacred Alamere." He is a pale skinned man who speaks with a foreign accent.
---
Down below the gnomish help gets the sodden dwarf back to his feet. He wrings out his beard and looks at the stew dripping off his hands.
"You get a pan and brush quick! Scoop the stew back up and in this pot. Them want summat hot soon. And we best be ready. They don't need to know what happens in my kitchen, do they?" threatens the dwarf.
"Who be you, ukarz?" adds the suspicious chef.
Marwan runs to the hatches as Dishdash had instructed, trying his best to batten them down.
"I'm Fudrick, and this fellow is Shulim. We have hired Morah for transportation." With a look of disgust he helps slop up the food into the pot again. Whisper to Shulim so the dwarf doesn't see or hear, "Make sure the others know not to eat tonight, ugh"
"I'm Fudrick, and this fellow is Shulim. We have hired Morah for transportation." With a look of disgust he helps slop up the food into the pot again. Whisper to Shulim so the dwarf doesn't see or hear, "Make sure the others know not to eat tonight, ugh"
"Why mate?" Shulim asks, "by all accounts dis be fine dwaven cuisine. Da guy has has added der special floor spices and even given da dish da fabled dwarven strain," he says pointing to the dwarf's beard, which the grizzled old cook is likely cleaning back into the pot, "Pay attention Fudrick cuz we's watching a master at work. Where else, outside of der halls of stone, could we be treated ta such fair? Dis is also why dwarves be such strong drinkers, day need something ta kill all da germs n'flavor."
A sailor reaches Fazaam and hooks both legs. "You keep that head below the masttop or you may be hurt! I be Tenimith of Sacred Alamere." He is a pale skinned man who speaks with a foreign accent.
Fazaam nods his agreement and climbs down from his perch, twisting his thin legs into the rigging to steady himself.
"Well-met!" He shouts into the wind. Noting the pale man's accent, but not able to place it in the noise of the wind and rain. "I hight Fazaam Al-Nakbar!"
WHen there is a break in shortening sail, Ghari wanders to the windward rail, looking out over the sea for an omen, three waves following closely, breaking together.
Fazaam becomes more comfortable with his new position in the rigging, and introduces Hasan to his rigging-mate.
Into a relative calm spot in the wind he calls, "I have studied much, but traveled little. I confess I have never seen 'Sacred Alamere'. What brings you to this jewel in the Crown of Islands?"
Marwan runs to the hatches as Dishdash had instructed, trying his best to batten them down.
The battens are kept tied against the side rails of the dhow, near the hatches. Placing and securing them is a simple matter, but time consuming.
As Marwan starts to work, Dishdash shouts for another to help him. The work progresses quickly, and before too long the hatches are secure against crashing waves.
---
Ghari sees three waves crest and fall but not together. Also he can make out that the storm is a small one by his standards and more of a blow. The dhow should pass through to the better weather in an hour or two.
---
Yrar grunts at the massive effort that the sailor is now sharing with him. The wheel seems to be fighting every inch.
---
The dwarf looks at the pair of gnomes with narrowed eyes. "Ta, y' did me good. So y' can help wiv dis meal, not nuff fur dis crew be now. Get chopping you and you fetch me water from the hold!"
He slams a large bunch of onions and two fat chickens on the table. They begin sliding around the table. Meanwhile the dwarf hums away over the pot. Its copper bottom starts to heat up and fine grains of green and white cascade from his fingers into the stew. Spices that came from nowhere.
Marwan does his best to get the hatches dogged tight. He glances back to Dishdash and Alif, anticipating further commands.
Yrar struggles slightly, but tightens his grip on the wheel. His muscles bulge and he lets out a grunt as he helps control the vessel.
The dwarf looks at the pair of gnomes with narrowed eyes. "Ta, y' did me good. So y' can help wiv dis meal, not nuff fur dis crew be now. Get chopping you and you fetch me water from the hold!"He slams a large bunch of onions and two fat chickens on the table. They begin sliding around the table. Meanwhile the dwarf hums away over the pot. Its copper bottom starts to heat up and fine grains of green and white cascade from his fingers into the stew. Spices that came from nowhere.
"And dat," Shulim says glaring at Fudrick, "sounds exactly like work."
"'Scuse me Mr cook," Shulim says, "we ain't been properly introduced, me mate here gave ya our names, now I tink it be polite ta do da same . . . unless you like being called cook."
"Laddie, I be called Lorn the Pot. 'An dis be my kitchen." The dwarf stomps to the back of the room to fetch two massive kitchen knives. He begins to dice fine some of the vegetables and meat.
The other blade he slides across to Shulim.
--
Above Yrar is making fine progress with the wheel, the other sailor grins at his help.
Time flies by. Soon the Dream is fully in the stormy weather and rain is sheeting across the deck, making footing treacherous. Every now and then a larger wave crashes over the side rail drenching everyone.
The Captain orders the mainsail shortened, his voice can barely be heard over the din. As all the sailors including Marwan and Ghari get to work, the two sailors and Fazaam at the top help with the rigging.
"Sacred Alamere is far off, home of the three gods? not far from Sceptar? You hurt?" Without a thought, the man reaches over and touches Fazaam calling out to an unknown god.
The winds gusting around the masthead are making life very difficult for the men up top.
Suddenly there is a twang and an obviously weak rope snaps at the base of the mast. As it jerks across the deck, a sailor is lashed badly falling against the side rail as the dhow tilts down. The rope twists and flips, and the sail begins to flutter and crack in the storm.
Ghari hears the rope snap and spins in time to see the sailor fall. Driven by the flapping sail, the rope jerks like a whip, snapping across the deck. Ghari leaps to catch the twisting, twitching rope.
Rope catch (1d20=16) Possible modifiers: BAB: +1 Dex +4
Ghari hand grips the rope near its end. Then a sharp tug of war begins as the wind and sail battle Ghari.
Meanwhile the dazed and wounded sailor is teetering on the side rail.
"Ah, not far from Scep'tar, of course." He flinches involuntarily as the man asks "Are you hurt?" And reaches out to him. But as the warm healing energy washes over him, he relaxes muscles he hadn't realized he was clenching against the pain.
"Not any more, a thousand thanks noble sir!" Fazaam grins at the man. So," He asks, taking a tighter grip on the rigging as the ship tilts a bit more. "You are a priest of the three gods?"
Before the sailor can answer, the lower sail rope snaps, injuring a man. Fazaam watches as Ghari leaps to catch the dangerously flapping rope.
"Always leaping before he looks." Fazaam smiles at his friend. He then notices the injured sailor teetering by the rail edge,...
"YRAR! MARWAN! THE SAILOR!" He bellows in a surprisingly large voice for a slender elf. Then points to the injured sailor. He begins judging the current tilt of the mast, and how far he would have to jump to clear the deck if his companions aren't swift enough,...
Ghari hand grips the rope near its end. Then a sharp tug of war begins as the wind and sail battle Ghari.
Rope catch strength check (1d20+3=12)
The sail whips the rope again before Ghari's grip is firm. The rope burns as it slides out of Ghari's grasp.
Marwan sees the injured sailor's peril
With a speed and agility surprising in such a bulky man, Marwan hastens to the sailor.
Balance: 1d20+10=15, Jump: 1d20+1=21, Tumble: 1d20+6=23, Use Rope: 1d20+5=16
Marwan's agility saves the sailor, just before another large wave washes over them. Another sailor, Ocelor, helps them get the wounded man inside.
Whereupon he starts calling, "Sexinon!"
--
Ghari's efforts are not in vain because although the rope burns free, his prompt action gives two other sailors a chance at the thick rope. They grip it tight and twist the rope about ones body. Dishdash orders everyone to help secure the sail again and soon the vessel is back under full control.
--
Aloft the healer listens to Fazaam's shouts and adds his own. Then when the situation below is resolved he turns back to the elf, "Me, no not any more. I saw what they were doing to the elves of Palis."
"Lorn is there anything I can help you with? My father didn't raise a cook but I will do what I can." He grins as Shulim looks at the knife and the prospect of having to do some work.
"Water, down below in the hold. Fetch me a bucket full. Watch fur dem rats!" grins the cook.
He points at a ladder beside the main corridor and kicks a bucket across the floor that slides into the corner.
Shulim grabs a knife and slowly begins slicing.
"So how long you bes a cook Lorn?" Shulim asks, "You work on dis ship fer a long time?"
Fazaam watches from his perch aloft as both the injured sailor and the rope are rescued and secured. Fazaam exhales into the storm, glad he didn't have to do anything foolishly heroic. But knowing that he would have if it had been needed.
Aloft the healer listens to Fazaam's shouts and adds his own. Then when the situation below is resolved he turns back to the elf, "Me, no not any more. I saw what they were doing to the elves of Palis."
Fazaam raises his eyebrows in surprise, though the elegant gesture is mostly wasted in the storm.
"I don't think I know that tale noble sir. Though I'd be most interested in hearing it sometime." He replies over the storm.
Sexinon arrives with Marwan and the wounded sailor. She tuts over his shoulder and face, before she touches the injury lightly with one finger.
A sigh escapes from the sailor as he relaxes, while the gnome whispers softly several words. Slowly the wound disappears.
Satisfied Sexinon and the sailor take the man into Marwan's room and place him on the small bed.
Looking at Marwan, she smiles wide, "Fine pair of shoulders and a decent hand too."
----
Tenimith nods to Fazaam and returns to his work. The dhow sails on through the storm and soon everyone can relax as bright sunshine pierces the clouds ahead.
Alif orders half the crew to work on the foresail again, with Dishdash harrying them on. He takes a moment to help Ghari with a tough sea knot and slaps his back as the rope works free.
With both sails and the storm receding, the ship lances out into the Straits. The coast of Vinggor can no longer be seen and nor can anyone else.
The captain points down to the helmsman and nods to Yrar. "Thank you. What do they call you?"
----
"Lorks! yum better cut dem faster dan dat, we be feedin twenty soon an' dis blow be passin so they be hungry. I be on here several year but there not be so much time fur yabbering."
Lorn finishes his part of the vegetables and scoops them into the bubbling pot.
Also any specific questions that you may ask and who you intend to ask.
Afterwards I shall give you what you may learn and we will fast track to just outisde Musushlat, unless anyone objects..?
Marwan gives Sexinon a regal bow, his ego gratified by the praise.
"You are much too kind to a humble sailor, my lady. I am happy to assit when there is peril. This poor man was about to take an unscheduled tour of Krakis' realm, but the Wet One's son rolled in his favor and I was His instrument. As the Book of the Navigator says, 'We are the tools that the Navigator uses to chart Fate's course.' I am always happy to help."
Marwan will return to the deck after a suitible interval of conversation with Sexinon and mingle with the crew. He will attempt to be unobtrusive, but he will ask about recent voyages, ports of call, trying to get an overarching idea of what's what with the ship.
Diplomacy: 1d20+2=19, Gather Information: 1d20+2=17 (both untrained)
EDIT:
Over the course of the voyage, Ghari ingratiates himself with Ocelor's group. He works hard to become a better sailor. When there's a chance to talk, he asks about their voyages and adventures, homes, families. Without trying to appear too gullible, he plays the part of the small town kid, out in the world for the first time. Or is he acting?
"Water, down below in the hold. Fetch me a bucket full. Watch fur dem rats!" grins the cook.
He points at a ladder beside the main corridor and kicks a bucket across the floor that slides into the corner.
"Rats, huh? Alright I'll be right back."
Fudrick grabs the bucket, and once outside the galley he heads back into the room to grab his weapon. Strapping it on he leaves to find the way down to the hold.
The captain points down to the helmsman and nods to Yrar. "Thank you. What do they call you?"
With a grasp still on the wheel, Yrar cranes his neck and nods, “They call me Yrar.” The Half-Orc grins widely, “It’s good to feel like a member of a ship’s crew again. Even if the Elf doesn‘t like me,” nodding towards Dishdash.
During the rest of the voyage, Yrar is content on feeling the wind on his face and aiding the Helmsman. He interacts with any crewmembers when spoken to though.
Looks like Shulim is in his element
"So," Yrar says to the Helmsman, "The Elf," nodding toward Dishdash, "Why he not like my kind? Something personal? Or dy'all feel that way?"
"So Lorn, you be da cook, and dat means you know every ting aboard ship, tell me, master o' da pot, who does a gnome like me and Fudrick avoid? Who can't we turn our backs on and who we trust? Der be bullies aboard, der is on every ship, who are day and how tight a reign da boss have over dem? Spill da beans . . . completely figuratively of course."
Shulim does his best to speed up his slicing to make himself appear useful.
Yrar watches the Elf 'Pointy' work and measures him up.
Fazaam finds Tenimith after they climb down, thanks him for his tips on climbing the rigging, and then chats with him a bit more, in hopes of being able to chat some useful info from him later.
"So Tenimith, how long have you been with the ship?"
"So, Tenimith. I have to admit I've heard a few stories,... But you know how stories are, I've told a few myself!" Fazaam grins. "If you don't mind, would you tell me about our host? What's he really like?"