Day 1
Mel rises early and heads over to the Bishopric government building, where she leaves word that they've investigated the leads on the Reaps and would like to discuss them with the Bishop.
She checks in to see if Regina Thrushmoor has finished her copy of A Treasury of Tales: being a compilation of folk lore from Old Feldnost, Revan, and the Troscari Wilds.
Sadly, though the poor girl pushed herself hard, she wasn't quite able to finish it. One chapter remains, and so she does not get her bonus.
Mel speaks with Kazador and Perrin about where Kazad Gravr is and they begin planning. She points out that a river journey would be safer and quicker than overland, and suggests hiring Captain Brolin's ship, subject to the Bishopric vetting Captain Brolin as trustworthy.
Day 2
Bishop meets briefly with the party to hear their report, and approves an expedition to Kazad Gravr to find out what the Council had to do with that tragedy. Mel suggests Captain Brolin, and asks if the Bishopric can vouchsafe him as trustworthy. GM, feel free to insert anything else here.
Mel picks up A Treasury of Tales. Regina didn't get the bonus, but Mel brings caramel apples as a consolation prize.
Day 3
Mel worries about Perrin who has been withdrawn and quiet, and doesn't seem to have been getting enough sleep. She tries to get him to open up a few times, to no avail; he's polite, non-committal, and soon retreats from conversation back to whatever is keeping him so preoccupied.
The Bishopric sends word to the party that Captain Brolin has been vetted and approved to be hired for this sensitive mission. The party meets with him privately to discuss the job (scene to follow).
Day 4
Mel acquires the following mundane supplies: 20 cold iron arrows (2 gp), 20 alchemical silver arrows (41 gp), a mwk cold iron dagger (304 gp), a mwk alchemical silver dagger (322 gp). I'm assuming all of this is available readily since it's all mundane gear.
I'm assuming preparations for the Sonder start happening about now, but leaving all that up to Brolin.
Day 5
Mel's preparations are mostly done at this point. In the morning she sits quietly in her room, composing three letters over and over until they're perfect:
I am grieved to report that the copy of A Geography of the World which I checked out on long term loan for use during my fieldwork has been destroyed. The house I was renting burned to the ground and took the book with it.
I have commissioned and paid for a new copy of the book (enclosed). Please add it to the collection, with my apologies.
Yours sincerely,
Melira Elenariel
graduate student
A rambling description of Brookside and some of its inhabitants follows, including that Mel was working as a bowyer.
... Anyway, I'm happy here and learning a lot. Tell Varen I think of him all the time when I'm making bows for people. Did he ever tell you how he got me to go back and learn bowyering properly after my first bow shattered? He told me I had a glorious summer to look forward to. Oh, but of course I must have mentioned that. Anyway, I'll write again soon. Love you both.
Melira
Some ... things have happened, and I wound up interfering with Council business. Dark business. I didn't know it was them -- but I'd still have worked to stop it if I had. In Ostara's name. What they were doing was ... repugnant. I'm sorry, I can't say more.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to come home again. And Council lands are not safe for you any more. Or for Varen, either. They might try to use any of you to get at me. They might ... hurt you, or hold you hostage. Please, you have get out of Lywelas! Get out of Council lands entirely. Iustia is not safe either. Make for Avinoax or the Bishopric, whichever you can get to faster and more quietly.
If you come to Helm and I am not there, seek out Colonel Smythe at the central guardhouse. He knows me, and he admires elvendom almost to the point of idol worship. He can help you find a safe place to stay until I return. I mean ... if I return. Nothing is certain in my life any more. Oh goddess, this is awful. I love you both more than I can say. GET CLEAR!
Melira
The last bit in the cover letter is a lie. Varen got her back into the workshop after her first bow broke by giving her an amulet of Ostara made from its shards and saying "That's enough discontented winter, girl." Her mother was sitting right there when it happened, so she would immediately spot the lie.
After composing these, she'll go see Brother Francis, the Bishopric's arcane expert who came to assist with the mirror incident. She'll ask him if there is any trustworthy wizard in the Bishopric who can use Secret Page to hide the contents of the real letter with the contents of the cover letter, using the phrase "discontented winter" as the pass phrase that reveals the real text. If possible, she also wants a casting of Magic Aura to make it register as non-magical. Preferably extended to make it last twice as long. She has 1,045 gold to her name and she'll spend every last coin to make this happen if she has to.
In the afternoon, she'll pick up her copy of A Geography of the World from Elias Branderholme, and make arrangements to ship the second copy off to the University of Etsi Paljon when it's done, along with the letter (in a sealed envelope).
Day 6
Mid-morning, she picks up her bow, now enchanted to be +1 merciful, from Pippi Ravnasdottir of the Whispering Anvil Smithy. The command word to turn on/off its non-lethality is Elävä.
Finally, she'll pack up her gear and report to the Sonder for the trip.
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The bishop does indeed agree to meet with you and bears a look of heavy concern when he hears your news. "So, Iustia threatens our sovereignty as well, no doubt for similar reasons. No one wishes to launch an invasion that crosses a desert... But this may prove useful. If I can receive definte evidence that Iustia has done this, then I may be able to play the two great powers off of each other in order to slow this horrible downhill wagon ride to war." He looks to Kazador and Algric with heavy pain in his face. "I understand your longing, my friends. And I wish to see your wishes fulfilled for the good of us all. But the Bishopric needs these pirates dealt with. Capturing their leader should suffice. I doubt she has carefully deatroyed any evidence linking her to Iustia or has any great loyalty to remain silent if captured."
This trip to the river will take you right through van Beem waters. From your past dealings with her and her crews, you know that she runs a loose network of ships that leaves her own ship often alone and guarded only by her loyal crew. Apparently, she is confident that no one would dare to attack her ship without a force large enough to be seen a long way off. You suspect her base of operations is hidden somewhere in the Serpent Isles.
You know that the clan's vaults held powerful weapons and artifacts. These pieces were so treasured the dwarves were reluctant to use them in defense against the orcs. By the time they became truly desperate, it was too late to retrieve them and only would have left them in orcish hands. But in the wrong, or right hands, these great tools could tip the balance of power.
Kazador remained silent as Claudius spoke. He understood that the man had loyalty towards his own country, and his own people. He didn't blame him for that.
---
When the group was alone, Kazador called everyone together.
"Algric. I think I know why the elves are after ye. I require an oath from all of ye. An oath that what I say won't leave us. An oath before all the gods and all the ancestors. Not a word of this goes to ANYONE else, nay even the bishop. If ye can't swear that, then I understand. But my words won't be for ye."
"I'm about to tell ye all somethin' that I've kept to myself all this time. Somethin' that could be right important. I am a Rune Warden. Likely the last of my kind. My hammer and armor are examples of our craft, but...there was more. In Kazad Gravr there is a vault, where the most powerful weapons and artifacts of our people were. Treasures so valuable that we did not use them against the orcs, and did not attempt to until it was too late. A vault well enough hidden that even I might have trouble finding it, and I know where it bloody well is. The elves are likely looking for it, and Algric, as they know ye're a survivor, they might think ye know where it is. If these artifacts get into the elven hands, it may well tip the balance of this coming war in their favor. These heirlooms were made for a reason. It is only right that they be used to avenge..." For a moment he choked up, but the moment passed "...ye understand what I'm saying."
"But the Bishopric needs these pirates dealt with. Capturing their leader should suffice. I doubt she has carefully deatroyed any evidence linking her to Iustia or has any great loyalty to remain silent if captured."
"Cool. I one hundred percent, totally agree."
"Van Beem runs a loose network of ships, spread out to cover more water, but that leaves her flagship alone and lightly guarded. If you brought in an armada, she'd see it coming a long way off, and she'd bring all her ships over to join the fight. But a single fast ship like the Sonder, except actually outfitted for battle with a crew of elite warriors like Kazador and Elden, or like Legacy, except I'd rather not get involved could take her by surprise, and engage the flagship one on one."
---
"Algric. I think I know why the elves are after ye. I require an oath from all of ye. An oath that what I say won't leave us. An oath before all the gods and all the ancestors. Not a word of this goes to ANYONE else, nay even the bishop. If ye can't swear that, then I understand. But my words won't be for ye."
If it's something ludicrously evil, like "Oh, guys, I came up with a plan to kill everyone everywhere, and I need is a half dozen human sacrifices to carry it out", than I won't feel guilty breaking my word, and it'd be better to know than not.
"I'll swear it."
---
"Problem is, going up the river to Kazad Gavr means going through pirate waters. There's not much we can do until the navy sorts out the pirate mess."
Kelian nods and swears to secrecy. Having heard Kazador's information, he smiles "Sure Kazador. We'll all do it together. After we help with these pirates."
Perrin, however, remains silent, his eyes far off and dark circles under his eyes.
"I swear," Mel says, seriously. After listening to Kazador's declaration, she says "Those should stay in dwarven hands, I think."
---
On Day 3 ...
"Thank you for meeting with us so promptly, Captain," Mel says after they've settled into the conference room at the guardhouse.
"There are a few things we need to discuss. First, the Bishopric would like to hire you and the Sonder for this expedition to Kazad Gravr. Kazador, Algric, Perrin and I would accompany you, plus your normal crew complement. As you pointed out, we would need to deal with Van Beem. And, as you also pointed out, a single ship striking quickly would be better than an armada for that particular purpose."
"Second, the Bishopric's people have authorized you to learn the full background of what is going on. You need to understand the stakes. So, let me tell you what has been happening." Mel concisely sums up the Brookside affair, the Council's involvement via Elrin, and their current attempts to prevent a full scale war from breaking out.
"... so that's why we can't tell the Council," she concludes bitterly. "It's because they're up to their ears in it."
Kelian listens grimly while Mel speaks then nods. "It's true, Captain. Every word of it. My father was one of the first witnesses to most of it. And I've seen the rest."
Alrgic's face grows darker and darker as Mel's story continues. "This is what my people died for? So those blasted Elves can improve their position?! There's not even a war on!!" He then proceeds to make some exceptionally rude comments on elves in general in Dwarvish. He doesn't seem likely to calm down any time soon.
"There's not a war on yet," Mel says grimly. "But it's not hard to see where one might come from. King Stephen up in Iustia is young, a scion of a family of conquerors, and apparently eager to prove himself. Or perhaps he's just thirsty for glory. Or blood."
"Any way you look at it, he's surrounded himself with a pack of yes-men who're egging him on, and there are only two places he might turn his ambitious eyes: the Bishopric, or the Concordat. Somehow I don't think a young firebrand like him is going to be satisfied with conquering the Bishopric -- it would be too easy. It's much smaller than Iustia, comparatively poorly defended, and led by what he sees as an old man. No, mark my words, unless something happens to stop him, he's going to pick a fight with the Concordat. So you can see why the Council would be nervous."
Her face spasms a little as she spits out: "None of which excuses the Council's barbaric behavior. They could have made common cause with the people of the Bishopric and Kazad Gravr. They could have come in peace and sought alliances against Iustia. Instead, they chose to treat the people here as inconsequential pawns. It makes me sick!"
The vehemence of this outburst takes everyone by surprise. There is a brief moment of silence. Mel, her cheeks red with fury, looks down. "I feel responsible," she says in a low voice. She lifts up and tugs back her scarf, letting her hair free, and tucks it behind her ears. She lowers both hands to her lap under the table, clutching the scarf tightly. "Even though it was done without my knowledge or blessing, it was done by my country," she says. "And so -- Kazador, Algric, for what little it's worth, I offer you my apologies. My people have grievously wronged yours, and I fear there is nothing I can do to make that right."
Algric falls silent, looking at Mel with a Stony mask of a face. Unsure what to say, he looks to Kazador. "Did you know this, my Thane?"
Kazador nodded, his face grim. ”Met her when I was working for the Bish as a guard. We were ambushed by elves. She was with us then. And I know how hard it was for her, but she made her decision. She has honor.” He let that sink in, before saying
ᚷᚱᚢᛞᚷᛖ᛫ᛋᛖᛏᛏᛚᛜ
Grudge Settling
Grudge settling means writing a wrong against those responsible. He is inferring that she is not among those the grudge is against
Mel looks aside, eyes closed, face white now. She says nothing further, but thinks of the ring lying heavy in her belt pouch.
"Yeah, let's not go implicating all elves everywhere just 'cuz their government's evil." Brolin drums his fingers against the table.
Been too long landside. Head's full of ghosts.
"My crew - they're top notch, and the Sonder is a thing of beauty, but they aren't fighters, most of them. I . . . I think I'm probably in, but I'll have to consult the mates, and they might be hesitant to put their necks on the line without knowing the stakes. I think I can convince them. But can three admittedly elite (I presume) agents of the Bishopric defend a four masted sailing ship of honest sailors? We might need to hire some muscle."
Algric calms down some at his Thane's words. "Your word is my command, Thane." He's still very far from happy about any part of this situation.
Kelian nods "Ok it sounds like we're developing a plan here. Should I go ask the Bishop if he'll send a handful of able fighters with us? Maybe a few crossbowmen? Or do we want to keep this as small and secret as possible?" He looks to everyone. "It sounds like we all have things to do to get ready. Should we meet at the wharf tomorrow?"
”Small and secret, given where we are going. I can teleport myself and two others when needed and if I know where we are going. If we need some men dead to get to our home, then so be it. Do it quick and fast, then we get out.”
Mel regains a bit of color as the tensions ease a bit. "Kazador," she says, "My impression was that the Bishop wanted Van Beem captured, not killed. He wants to find out what she knows. And, presumably, he wants any evidence from her ship. While I have no doubt that you could get us in and out quickly, I don't think that will actually accomplish the goal in this case."
"I suggest, instead, that we ask the Bishopric to supply us with a group of able fighters, as Kelian suggests. Specifically, we need able fighters who are also capable of running a ship. They do not need to know anything about Kazad Gravr, because they won't be with us at that point."
"We find Van Beem, we assault her ship and take her prisoner, along with any of her crew that surrender -- or survive. Then we send her entire ship back to the Bishopric under command of the assault crew, with Van Beem and her people in manacles belowdecks. The Bishop gets evidence, witnesses, and a new ship for the navy. Our way to Kazad Gravr will be clear, and all of the extra fighters will have been sent back to Helm none the wiser of our final destination."
”Aye then. As ye say.” Kazador did his best to keep the impatience out of his voice. He understood, but there was a fire in his heart. Once it was ashen cold, but now it was lit anew, and he was ready to lash out.
Mel nods. "Captain?" she asks. "Does this sound reasonable to you? You are an accomplished sailor, whereas I have never been in any boat larger than a raft. Is there anything you would add to or change about this plan?"
Kelian nods firmly. "Alright. That sounds like a plan. I'll go ask the bishop what forces he can spare and trust to be discreet." If no one has further comment, he heads out to try to get a meeting with the Bishop.
Mel nods, sighing, and stands. "I wanted you all to know about ... this ..." she gestures at her ears, "Now, rather than later, when it might have caused ... misunderstandings. I am not ashamed of my race. But I am ashamed of my government. Their actions are repugnant, even if they hope to avoid a war -- which I am not certain of, in all honesty. I will do what I can to avert this war. And at the moment, that means working against my government."
Drawn and tired, she draws the scarf back over her head once more, and walks slowly from the room -- to go and do those things that must be done to prepare for the journey ahead.
Mel nods. "Captain?" she asks. "Does this sound reasonable to you? You are an accomplished sailor, whereas I have never been in any boat larger than a raft. Is there anything you would add to or change about this plan?"
"You're an accomplished secret government agent, whereas I'm not. I'll defer to your expertise here."
Several days later, you meet down at the Wharf to board the Sonder. Kelian arrives accompanied by four men sent by the bishop to aid you. The Sonder's crew looks to their captain with some uncertainty, not sure about this mission he's taking them on.
Wearing his finest armor and carrying his ancestral hammer, Algric boards the Sonder silently. He looks uneasy at the prospect of sailing but his resolve to avenge his clan leaves no doubts in his mind.
Perrin, however, doesn't show up at the Wharf. He's been very quiet lately and has had dark circles under his eyes. As they wait to board, Mel hears his voice in her head just like when they received a sending spell from the Bishop. "It's ok Melira. I'll be alright. There are just some things I need to think about... and take care of..."
Everything seems prepared for this voyage. The crew merely awaits the captain's orders to shove off.
Mel gives a sour laugh at that. "Captain, until last week I was a graduate student collecting folklore in a small, out-of-the-way village. I hid my elven features so as not to provoke too much curiousity -- I wanted to hear stories, not become the focus of attention. I was there for just over a year before my stupid government tricked a horde of orcs into attacking the place."
"Since then I've been scrambling to adjust. So please -- don't trust to my expertise with cloak and dagger, because I'm not an expert on that!"
She looks down at herself -- clad in a cloak, and armed with daggers. "But I'm learning far faster than I'd like," she finishes sadly, and goes about her business.
---------------
Standing aboard ship, Mel would ordinarily have been watching with interest as the sailors go about their tasks. But instead her eyes are fixed firmly on shore, looking anxiously for Perrin.
Then his message arrives.
She lowers her head, arms braced on the railing. "Oh, hitto, Perrin," she whispers back. "All right. Be safe. And remember, your soul has worth! Don't throw it away. Find a better path. I beg you."
She finishes and stands leaning over the railing in silence, letting a few salty tears slide down to join the sea.
Resplendent in shining armor and with tunic hammer Kazador showed up. Nodding to Algric, he slapped the Dwarven archer on the shoulder. ᚡᛖᛜᛠᛜᚲᛖ᛫ᚨᚹᚨᛁᛏᛋ He said simply.
The Sonder sets off and begins sailing south toward the Serpent Isles. The waves buck the ship gently as you travel, the salt breeze filling the sails nicely.
Kelian and Algric soon grow queasy, both completely unfamiliar with life aboard a ship. Algric heaves over the side and wipes his beard. But he fixes his eyes on the southeast horizon, no doubt in his mind that he's doing the right thing. Kelian, however, is somewhat more doubtful. "Ugh... A short fight is one thing... But this is never-ending misery..."
Just as Captain Muse is bedecked in an eclectic mess of keepsakes and knickknacks, the Sonder's crew is a disparate lot, and the ship itself wouldn't look out of place as a circus attraction.
Multihued sails flap listlessly in the wind, waiting for time and tide, and for a half dozen last minute preparations that really should have been completed days ago, but are instead being done just this very second hurry up come on people time and tide wait for no one. The weather-beaten and sea-salt sides of the vessel are painted, painted both landscape and portraiture, and with various cartoons and comics long since made illegible by the sea.
The crew hurries to and fro, hefting boxes and barrels and clothing and rope and various odds and ends. In the midst of the bustle and activity stands Captain Muse, looking perfectly at home in the chaos, a wide smile plastered across his face. He doesn't speak, taking it in - he trusts his crew to know what they're doing.
"We cast off in five," he cups his hand around his mouth and shouts. "If you aren't on board then, we're leaving without you!"
"Empty threat!" comes the shouted response from a aging gnomish woman with purple-grey hair. "If you left without me, you'd have nothing to eat!"
"My other shirt's getting washed," protests a balding sailor with a bit of a belly.
"How long will that take?" the captain asks.
"Maybe ten minutes."
"We cast off in ten! If you aren't on board then, we're leaving without you!"
. . .
The Sonder sets sail, fifteen minutes behind schedule, which is why Captain Muse scheduled the departure a good half hour before they actually needed to go. Not his first rodeo.
"Alrighty, people, gather round!" the captain shouts, striding onto the deck. "We're sailing headlong into danger, intentionally this time, though hopefully we aren't sailing towards nearly as much of it, and half of us have never met the other half. Recipe for disaster, that is. I think introductions are in order!"
A chorus of overlapping voices drowns out all intelligible meaning. The newcomers are new and shiny, and most everyone's interested. A dwarf in rusted armor sidles up to Kazador and Algric, and though the beardfolk are right next to each other, Kazador can barely make out what the other dwarf's saying. "I'm Murkain," the dwarf introduces himself, "and it's nice to have another son of the stone alongside while we're going after pyrites. Pyrites might be fools who steal gold, but you can't take victory for granite."
A piercing whistle brings silence. "We'll have to be more organized about this. Murkain . . . Murkain, are you punning?"
"Don't quarry about it," the dwarf suggests.
"Just . . . try not to drive them off."
"I won't rock the boat."
". . . right."
"Just pretend you can't hear me," Murkain advises, "everyone else igneous me too."
"Don't worry, Captain," Mel advises kindly, gesturing at Murkain. "He's clearly just taking the schist out of you."
The Bishopric's Marines load onto the boat in an orderly fashion. Their captain, a hard-looking short woman with greyish-tan skin in her mid-thirties approaches Brolin directly. "Hello Captain Muse. I'm captain Blackskull. Where would you like us to bunk?"
By the look of her, the woman is 1/4 Duergar.
Mel nods at Captain Blackskull's question. "Same question for the rest of us," she adds to Brolin.
She looks down. "Perrin's not coming. I just got word. So that'll free up some space."
Kazador watched as the dwarf unleashed a full pun offensive. It was as brutal as it was merciless. An unrelenting attack that would wear down even the strongest of defenses. When he had finally weathered the storm, Kazador weakly offered ”He seems like a rock-solid Dwarf.” He shrugged, acknowledging that he had given in to the madness, but that fighting it was too hard.
He completely missed the fact that Errde had obsidian in her blood.
“There’s plenty of empty space in the gold, since we’re shipping nothing but blokes and ballast. Brickenden can show you where.”
The marine captain and her three soldiers nod and follow the wise fellow down into the hold to stow their gear and hang their bunks, if there are not extra hammocks already.
The ship makes good time and soon makes it into the waters of the Serpent Isles. Vigilance is required here as both pirates and sizable serpents are known to frequent these waters!
Mel is slightly green for the first two days of sailing, but manages to get her legs soon enough. She trusts in the crew to keep a sharp eye out -- but makes a point of glancing around regularly, reasoning that more eyes never hurt.
Second Mate Alvin Torval keeps a weather eye out for trouble.
Mel and the second mate catch a glimpse of a shadow moving underneath the surface of the water and call out a warning! Their call is none too soon as a massive scaly head bursts from the sea, maw gaping. But everyone aboard the Sonder is prepared! Captain Blackskull and her marines storm onto the deck.
The creature is a spitting sea serpent. It isn't large enough to capsize the Sonder so it is likely attempting to seize a crew member or two as prey then retreat into the depths.
[edit]Hearing shouts from above, Brolin makes his way to the topdeck to investigate .[/edit]
"That's a spitting sea serpent!" the captain shouts. "It can't hurt the boat, so get below decks!"
While drawing and stringing his shortbow, Muse greets the sea serpent in it's own language.
"Yes, it's a spitter!" Mel calls, unlimbering her bow and rushing closer. "Small. Don't let it grab you!"
Hearing Brolin begin speaking to it in a rolling, liquid language, she pauses with an arrow nocked, and instead focuses on the words. The color washes from her irises, and then she can understand.
Mel started out near the prow. If I've counted my squares right, 30 feet of movement will get her to just stern side of the foremast. She pulls out her bow as part of the movement.
The move put her within 30 feet of the serpent, so Point Blank Shot is in effect (IF she takes a shot, which she originally did and missed and then this got edited because she wouldn't shoot if Brolin's trying to talk it down.)
Spent a standard action on activating Comprehend Languages.
”Algric! Ye heard him. Let’s get below deck. Ye first, ye know my runes can take me.”
Algric did as he was bade, and moved to get below deck. Nonetheless he had an arrow knocked and ready to fire should the wyrm prove hostile.
Kelian looks on uncertainly and draws his longsword while Errde and her men ready their weapons. She looks to Brolin and mutters in a low tone "I don't know what you're trying, captain, but if it doesn't look like it worked, we fire."
Muse considers channeling Asher, but decides he’d rather have Legacy as an option if a fight starts than hope Asher’s expertise is enough to prevent combat altogether.
The great serpent turns its head and looks at Brolin with interest. It opens its mouth and a flowing stream of strange-sounding words deeply intoned pours forth
"An interesting offer, two-legs. But all of my food is salty already. I eat two-legs to enjoy their fresh taste. Just throw two of your own over the side and I will enjoy them in peace."
The serpent seems interested in getting a free meal but isn't very scared of you.
Two seasick dwarves we’re unlikely to be very frightening to a Sea Drake. But Algric at least had his bow at the ready. Should there be hostilities, he at least could reach out and touch the serpent. A free meal was good and all, especially when the alternative was bleeding for it.
Mel narrows her eyes at the serpent's demand, and pulls her arrow to half-draw.
She gets the feeling that the serpent hasn't even noticed the motion.
No matter, she thinks. The arrow will fly as true whether the serpent sees it or not.
Captain Muse adjusts his hat nervously, nervousness that he dares not show, staring down a twenty foot long sea dragon.
I donat reckon it be afeared o’ ye, Scabb notes.
I donat reckon it be afeared either. Help?
The ghostly pirate hems and haws. Thar be two kinds o' fear, she says at last. Fear o' th' unknown, o’ a mystery, 'n fear o' th' known, which be called certinitude. Right now, weâre a mystery. Th' snake doesnât know who we be, or how strong we be. Thatâs a good thing if we look stronger t' th' snake, a bad thing if we really are.
We are, Muse subvocalizes. I’m sixty percent sure. Just don’t want a fight.
Prove that to the snake, is Scabbs simple recommendation. Change how it be evalulatin’ ye.
Right.
“It seems you misunderstood me!” the captain calls to the serpent, doing his best to sound confident and unaffected. “I wasn’t capitulating - just proposing a mutually beneficial bargain. You like free food, I dislike getting wet, and you like breathing water or air, you spectacular amphibious serpent, you.”
“But if salt in your food is a deal breaker, we were just on our way to capture a ship full of people. Help us attack it, you can eat as many of their people as you want, won’t no one stop you.”
Mel looks at the Captain in frank amazement as he makes this offer. If it worked, it would be brilliant -- though cruel.
But ... Mel thinks. Why should it agree to go attack some other ship someplace else when it's got a perfectly good ship full of snacks right here and now? She tightens her grip on her bow.
The sea serpent looks to Brolin then Algric glowering over Brolin's shouldrr and spits a great glob of something into the water. "Very well. Bring me the pork. But it had better be a large quantity. I'll not be following your ship like a dolphin, waiting for scraps."
”It’s lookin’ at ye lad...” Kazador said. His runes on his hammer began to glow green.
The boyer had his feet planted. His bow was lowered, facing the deck, but there was already an arrow in his hand. He met the serpent’s gaze. The dwarf remained silent, looking at the wyrm for weak points to aim at.