With a strange happy calmness, Xarethi looks around at the others.
"It's strange. I hadn't thought of it before now, but you're right, Aeronniell. We do seem a little more prepared and able than others."
"Thank you. chez," the barbarian nods as he repaired her slashed tunic. "That's a neat trick!
The sailors thank Aeronniell for her bandaging the wounded. Captain Barron posts extra guards to make sure the Sahuagin do not return. He then directs comments at the party. "I know the hour is late, but your involvement tonight turned the tide of the battle against those vicious Shark-men and I'd hate to imagine what would have become of my crew and myself had you not stepped in. Your skill, especially of the ladies, boggles the mind. On behalf of my crew, know that I am eternally grateful, and you have earned a true friend indeed." He proceeds to shake your hands individually before returning to his duties.
The night shift does indeed stay up until the wee hours of the morning cleaning the deck of blood and tossing the dead Sahuagin overboard. You try and catch some sleep, as the adrenaline of the fight wears off and exhaustion finally overpowers you.
The next morning, the dead sailors are buried at sea, as is customary. With no way to preserve the dead and out of fear of disease, Dixon Altamir is also laid to rest in the sea.
Ialda was very somber the next morning. She began to speak to the gathered group, "I've lost people to the unknowns in the jungle, of course. But they had accepted the responsibility of their actions, to try to discover riches and gain fame. There are always unknown traps and dangers there. This seems different. These people were just trying to get from one port to the other. Those damn fish men are truly evil. I wish we could have finished all of them off."
She plopped down on a dry corner of the deck, and looked out into the sea.
Devon holds back tears, as the bodies disappear beneath the waves. "I will do our name proud, brother. I promise you that!", he shouts to the sky. With that, he composes himself and walks over to the party. "Again, thank you all for your help during the attack. You all showed great skill, especially as a group." He looks at Chez, "Even you, though I hate to admit it, rival." He smiles a little. "In all seriousness, though, I have not the funds to pay you, I promise I will find a way to send work your way once we reach Eleder, assuming you're interested." While he awaits a response, he looks at Ialda, "And you, you mentioned skill with a flail, nothing about a spear. Impressive."
Kowaru glances over to Chez, the exhaustion evident in the monk's eyes. "Thank you, brother. Violence is not my preferred method of solving problems, but there are some things out there that do not understand anything but conflict." He was silent a moment, and clutched his side. "If you'll excuse me, I do need to have someone tend to my wound."
The next day, Kowaru arose carefully, being careful to favor the side where the trident had not pierced him. He gave a silent prayer to speed the souls of those that lost their lives last night, and meditated upon what had transpired. If not for the swift actions of the crew and passengers, the sea devils would have killed and eaten everyone. Xarethi and Aeron are right - we are more capable than the sailors here. Was this a fortunate coincidence? Or is there something more? Are our karmas linked in some mysterious way I cannot foresee?
He listens as Devon offers them work in Eleder. "My condolences on the loss of your brother. The passing of any soul lessens us all, but we fully feel that impact when it is someone close to us. If there is anything you need assistance with in the future, please speak with me. And I would welcome any employment opportunities you send - this world may be the illusion, but I am still living within it."
Xanethi is quiet for a moment as she basks in the morning glow reflected from the sea around them.
"It is strange, though. They are evil, that is true, but I cannot help from wondering if the Sharkriders attacked for some purpose. Or why such a large number attacked."
"You have heard the parable of the frog and the scorpion, undoubtedly, Xarethi. I believe it contains the answer you seek."
"Any work you could send my way would be appreciated, Devon. And I know my way around quite a few weapons, truth be told. Just don't get near me when I'm mad. I can slice, dice, and bash, for good measure...," she says, smiling a little at the compliment.
"I find that things have a way of happening for a reason. As an old friend of mine used to say, there is always a pattern to be found in the stars."
After standing on the deck observing the night sky for many hours, the next day Aeronniell instinctively tests the tension of her bow and keeps one eye trained to the waters, more wary of their depths than usual.
"Great to hear a couple of you are interested at least. And don't worry, Ialda, I'll make sure to be nowhere near you when you're mad." Devon smiles and bids the party adieu, as he returns to his guard duties, still sad but hopeful and filled with purpose.
Despite the tragedy, the crew seems to have overcome the shock of the attack and they return to their daily routine as well. As sailors, they know, more than most, the dangers of the job, be it stormy weather, pirates, a kraken, or even Sahuagin, and the short life expectancy. However, given the grandness and the freedom of the seas, you believe most of them wouldn't have it any other way.
In fact, all five of the Mwangi sailors aboard approach Ialda during the next couple of days at one time or another and praise her for her bravery and skill with the spear, many saying, "It must be the Mwangi blood in ye, eh girl, that keep you strong? Keep up the good work!"
Ialda's head swam from the compliments she received from her native kin. "Thank you very much. It was nothing," she kept saying to the Mwangi sailors. She had been used to attention before, of course, but most of the time it was for her strange appearance. This was different. And nice, for a change.
Xarethi is quiet for a period, her gaze fixed on the sea waters below them. She appears to be contemplating the nature of what had just happened to them.
After a day or so of rest, Kowaru sought out Devon in the galley during mealtime. "Might I sit with you for a moment, brother?" Kowaru was careful to use that sobriquet gingerly, and after the man nodded his assent, Kowaru sat with him. "I wish to honor your late brother - he gave his life defending the Rose and her men, and I hardly knew the man. Perhaps you could tell a story from your past, so that I might better know the man who helped save the Rose?"
Devon gladly nods his assent to Kowaru's company. Upon hearing the question, he pauses and his eyes tear up for a little. Then he says, "How gentlemanly of you, my good Kowaru! I must say, I have heard your people are quite a barbaric lot, killers of children and pillagers of villagers and what not! Please, while I compose myself,", he says, wiping some tears away, "I would first like to hear the tale of how a shaved half-orc brawler came to be on this fine ship. Then I will honor you with tales of Dixon Altamir, the finest man I have ever known!" While waiting to listen to your tale, he pulls out his wineskin and offers you a drink. "Captain, let me refill it up this morning from his private stock. As might be expected, I drank a lot last night. So, let me hear it, Kowaru."
When Chez has a chance to talk to Devin in private...
"I do wish to express my condolences. If you need help with anything, let me know. It appears that you have cargo of significant concern to you, if you need someone to help you guard it, just let me know. Is the cargo anything interesting?"
Kowaru waves away the wineskin Dixon offers him. "Thank you for the offer, but I do not drink. It is one of the lessons my master imparted to me." Kowaru grows silent for a moment, searcing for the right words to begin his story.
"The tales of my kind are not without merit - many of us struggle to find a place in the world, as neither humans nor orcs accept us as true kin. I have never known my parents, as I was abandoned upon the doorstep of a monastery. I cannot truly blame my mother, for I am sure I am the progeny of an orcish rampage turned aside. The monks did their best to raise me, but I had a savage heart within me, a...gift from my father, no doubt. It was an old monk by the name of Master Ping Xiao who finally appealed to my human side, and opened my eyes to his philosophy. He showed me that there is beauty everywhere we look, if we just stop but a moment and appreciate it. He taught me that 'as the hand, so is the mind; a closed fist is a closed mind, but an open hand is an open mind.' He taught me the ways of his order: how to fight, but how to bring peace as well.
"He was a good man. And he was killed by assassins. They tried to kill me as well, but Master Ping had already defeated most of them before he was brought low. They were paid to kill us, and I swore that I would find the ones responsible for my master's death. They gave me names, which led to more names, and so forth. Now I have found that the trail leads me to Eleder, a city far from my home. How Master Ping has angered someone here, I cannot fathom - but this is why I travel the Rose."
Kowaru sighs as he finishes his story, his shoulders slumping slightly, as though a burden was lessened from him. After a moment, he speaks again, wearing a serene smile. "Now, brother...tell me of Dixon Altamir, so I might know the man."
Xarethi will seek out the captain of the ship, if he's available.
"Sorry to disturb you, Captain... I was wondering if you had any idea why those creatures attacked us? Is it just their aggressive nature, or were they after something specific?"
Kowaru waves away the wineskin Dixon offers him. "Thank you for the offer, but I do not drink. It is one of the lessons my master imparted to me." Kowaru grows silent for a moment, searcing for the right words to begin his story.
"The tales of my kind are not without merit - many of us struggle to find a place in the world, as neither humans nor orcs accept us as true kin. I have never known my parents, as I was abandoned upon the doorstep of a monastery. I cannot truly blame my mother, for I am sure I am the progeny of an orcish rampage turned aside. The monks did their best to raise me, but I had a savage heart within me, a...gift from my father, no doubt. It was an old monk by the name of Master Ping Xiao who finally appealed to my human side, and opened my eyes to his philosophy. He showed me that there is beauty everywhere we look, if we just stop but a moment and appreciate it. He taught me that 'as the hand, so is the mind; a closed fist is a closed mind, but an open hand is an open mind.' He taught me the ways of his order: how to fight, but how to bring peace as well.
"He was a good man. And he was killed by assassins. They tried to kill me as well, but Master Ping had already defeated most of them before he was brought low. They were paid to kill us, and I swore that I would find the ones responsible for my master's death. They gave me names, which led to more names, and so forth. Now I have found that the trail leads me to Eleder, a city far from my home. How Master Ping has angered someone here, I cannot fathom - but this is why I travel the Rose."
Kowaru sighs as he finishes his story, his shoulders slumping slightly, as though a burden was lessened from him. After a moment, he speaks again, wearing a serene smile. "Now, brother...tell me of Dixon Altamir, so I might know the man."
"Well, if you will not have one, I will have a drink for the both of us." Devon fills his tin cup with wine and then leans back and listens to Kowaru's tale intently. When the half-orc is done, he remarks, "A tale of vengeance, I see, for a man of peace. Much contradiction, indeed. I wish you much luck, monk, though these tales hardly end well. For Master Ping then, a good man and teacher." He raises his cup and finishes it in one shot and pours himself another. "So you want to know about my brother, eh ?" He pauses, gazing into Kowaru's eyes, looking for a sense of trust and finds it in the half-orc's calm and gentle demeanor.
"Dixon Altamir, he was my twin you know, six minutes older and don't think he ever let me forget it. Hehe! I think I grew this moustache just to appear older." Devon smiles, stroking his facial hair, as he pauses to reflect, "Ahhh...I remember growing up, in the Zenj slums in Eleder, it was hard. We were orphaned early on, mom died in childbirth, pop never forgave us and his constant drinking got him killed in a bar one night." He shakes his head, as he takes a swig of his cup. "So there we were, 7 years old, living among the beggars and vagrants, starving and homeless, knowing any night could be our last. But there was Dixon, always comforting me, telling me better days were right around the corner. Many times, he gave up his meal just so I could eat, that's the type of person he was. And we met the most unsavory fellas in those slums, you know the ones I mean, the ones good with a knife in the back alleys. That's where we learned to fight and survive, most of all. Then, when we got older, when we were 12, I remember, we would walk for miles and miles to go find work in the salt mines of the wealthy Sargavan families. Oh, that was horrible, but there was Dixon, always watching my back. From there, we moved on to the pineapple fields on the outskirts of Outerwall, more grunt work. These hands have seen hard days." He raises his hands, staring at them, seemingly lost in every callous, reliving every scar. Then, the moment fades and he continues, " When we turned 16, off to military service. It's compulsory here, 2 years. Dixon and I got good with swords there, made some money when we came out, serving as guards, muscle. We finally left the slums and moved to Lower Harbor, working for the pearl market vendors, swimming for pearls in Zenj territory." Devon gets excited as he pours himself another drink, his speech much more fluid and fast paced. " I remember this one time, we pissed off these six tribesmen, wielding spears, sort of like Ialda. Talk about huge, they were as big as those shark-men; ok, maybe shorter, and angry to boot. Something about us stepping on holy ground and how we were going to be made examples of. Sh*t, I was so scared, thought we were going to bite it there. But Dixon, he had the gift of gab. He remained calm and parlayed an agreement with the tribesmen for future shipments of grain and cloth and even though, it came out of our pay, we never had problems with them again. That was Dixon, he never gave up, always looking for a solution. Hell, I'd have stayed a pearl diver forever, drinking and whoring away our profits, but Dixon, he had ambition. Always trying to make a better life for us. He got in good with this noble family, the Vanderborens. Like I said, he had the gift of gab, he charmed the hell out of them. Well, that was 5 years ago, and they've been like our patrons since then. Well, till about a month ago, when the patriarch and his wife died in a shipping accident off the coast. We got this job from their eldest daughter, Lavinia. On my, she's a hottie, but nothing compared to the 3 you're hanging with. Am I right or am I right, eh?" He smiles and pauses to take another drink. "That's the job I'm on now, bringing some merchandise back to her, recovered from the sunken ship. For sentimental value, I guess. I don't know, a job's a job. Anyways, she's good people, honest and fair. Her brother, not so much, a moody bastard that one, the rare times I've seen him." Devon pauses. "Whoa, as you can see, the gift of gab runs in the family. Sorry, if I was too long winded. That was good, therapeutic to tell someone how great Dixon was. Thank you, Kowaru." He raises his glass and addresses all present in the galley in a loud voice, "To Dixon, the man who saved my life more times than I can count and the finest brother ever."
The sailors raise their tin cups, "Here, here!"
Xarethi will seek out the captain of the ship, if he's available.
"Sorry to disturb you, Captain... I was wondering if you had any idea why those creatures attacked us? Is it just their aggressive nature, or were they after something specific?"
Xarethi nods in understanding.
"It is sad to think that there are some creatures that are so violent. I wonder if they have any concept of goodness or beauty, or if they simply seek to destroy everything alien to them."
She turns back to the banister, nodding her thanks to the captain for taking the time to answer her inquiry.
|
Kowaru bows his head as the men around him raise their tankards in memory of Dixon. "To Dixon." is all the monk says.
After the story, Kowaru gets up and lays a comforting hand on Dixon's shoulder. "Thank you, brother, your words were enlightening. And it was not long-winded, for you had a lifetime to recount. Know this, brother...though he has passed on, your brother will watch over you. Twins tend not to be reborn until the other's journey is complete. When your time is at an end, he will be waiting for you." Kowaru bows his head to Dixon, and leaves the man to his thoughts.
Kowaru spends the remainder of the day on deck, watching the sea, feeling the wind and salt spray on his face.
"I will heed your words. May Desna watch over you, kind monk."
Ialda remained mostly silent the next day, listening more than speaking yielded more information without a doubt. She heard the sadness in the story of Dixon, and listened intently to the Captain's explanation of the nature of the sharkmen.
Being still stressed out after the attack, she mostly kept to herself, pausing only to speak to the Mwangi soldiers a bit--they made her feel closer to home, for some reason.
Two days pass without incident, as the occupants of the Velvet Rose recover from the Sahuagin attack physically and psychologically. Soon enough, past dusk, the ship is passing past Desperation Bay and into Eleder Harbor, a masterwork of Chelish design and engineering. View City view
Before the ship docks, a Chelish representative from the harbormaster's office boards the Velvet Rose, accompanied by a couple of guards, and after a few minutes of inspection of the crew and passengers and the hold, allows the ship to dock.
Devon Altamir disembarks and hires the services of two porters, who refer to him by name, to help him ferret the two crates bearing the mercantile insignia. He walks over to the party and says, "Thank you much for your bravery and company on this trip. Now, I must depart, can't keep my patron waiting. As promised, I will pass your names around as competent...ah what, shall we call it?...experts. Yes, that fits. It has been a true pleasure. Please take care of yourselves, Eleder is as beautiful as she is dangerous. If you ever need a friend or a local to help, you can ask for me by name in Lower Harbor to the west." He bows, signals to the porters, acquires the services of a carriage and is off.
Before you disembark, however, Captain Barron approaches you, with his crew gathered around. "People, people. The boys and I wish to drink, properly, to the memories and souls of our six fallen friends on this trip, as is naval tradition. And at the same time, celebrate your bravery and exploits. You truly saved the Velvet Rose and we need to thank you properly, so I am not accepting no for an answer. Right, boys? The drinks are on me!" The crew cheers!
Xarethi looks up from packing her backpack. She smiles and nods to the captain.
"All right, I'm game. Simple, happy companionship is rare enough, so I won't refuse."
The crew whistles and hollers when the hot girl accepts!
Aeronniell climbs aboard the deck and her eyes run up the length of the mast, narrowing at the flapping sails as they are reeled in.
At last! I wonder if I will ever sail on this Velvet Rose again.
Checking her pack to ensure what was left of her meager possessions, she patted her coin pouch and found it frighteningly light.
"Stars... I, errr." Aeronniell looked around at the others. It seemed they all had somewhere to go. She wondered if in her long absence if a temple to Desna would have blossomed in Eleder. She would need a place to stay tonight or else she might find herself sitting in one of the town's parks drinking in the stars all night long in meditation... again.
"I would happily join in this celebration," the elf agrees, rewarding the crew with a smile and a curt bow.
Chez addresses Aeronniell, Xarethi and Ialda, gives a slight bow and humbly requests, "I would be happy to escort these fine ladies to your favorite tavern. I look forward to sampling the fine wines of Eleder, and I would certainly appreciate any suggestions which any of you may have to offer, since you are so familiar with this city."
"Never turn down free alcohol, I wise man once told me. I am certainly in for dinner before we each head in our separate directions," Ialda nods in agreement with the others.
Kowaru smiles and nods swiftly as the Captain speaks with him. "Thank you, Captain, I would gladly enjoy celebrating with the crew." He would worry about finding shelter for the night later - at least he had one more meal he didn't need to worry about.
Hearing your acceptance, the crew cheers some more and with the Captain in the lead, you follow them to the Blue Whale tavern. Along the way on the boardwalk, you get many stares, as well as the Mwangi sailors, with the latter being mainly looks of derision from the white Chelaxian majority. The women in the party get leering looks of lust from many men, but the crew of the Velvet Rose scares away any pretenders. Merchants and artisans hawk their wares, even at this late hour: coral jewelry, pearls, fish, scarves, etc.
The Blue Whale tavern, which coincidentally is located by the boardwalk, maybe 10 minutes from the pier and docks, is frequented by many sailors. You see arm-wrestling contests, as well as card games, taking place at many of the tables, and all with drinks in their hand. It appears the drink of choice is rum, though some prefer ale or wine. Captain Barron appears to be a frequent visitor, as he is greeted by all upon entry, and has a private table reserved for him and his crew.
Once you sit, bottles of rum are ordered or whatever you prefer and the drinking begins. Shots of liquor are taken in honor of each of the deceased and then the stories begin, starting with the party's exploits in saving the Velvet Rose. Many of the facts are exaggerated, as the entire bar goes quiet to hear how 25 terrors from the deep were slaughtered: 7 by Ialda and her potent spear (many of the Mwangi saiors at other tables take a quick liking to her); 6 by Chez's blade dance; 4 by Aeronniell's precise bow; 4 by Kowaru's fists of steel; and 3 by Xarethi's death magic! Despite the fact that she killed the fewest, the sorceress gets the most cheers from the other sailors present! She gets asked out many times and when she refuses the offers, you hear that the Pussycat Lounge, i.e. the local brothel down the street, will get much business tonight!
Food is brought out during the story and joke-telling hours and you learn Captain Barron did not exaggerate about the quality of the fish and potatoes, as the meal is delicious. You lose track of time amid the fun and hoopla but you are sure at least 2 hours have passed since your arrival.
Ialda was having a great time at dinner. The company was great, and she generally was feeling accepted by all. It had been a while since she had this much attention, and for something positive this time! She drank heavily with the sailors, trusting her strong constitution to keep her from getting too hung over.
Perception
She sees the fellow looking out of place and interested, follows his beckoning. "Hello stranger. It appears you might know me, but I don't know you. I'm Ialda. How can I help you?"
Xarethi gazes out the window in a momentary lull of conversation. She was bashfully quiet most of the evening, uncertain how to respond to so much attention.
Kowaru sighs as he slowly chews the fried fish and potatoes, dousing them liberally with salt and malted vinegar. He relished the fresh food after a few weeks of dried and preserved rations aboard the Rose. He listened to the stories told about his defense of the ship, and idly wondered what battle the teller had witnessed, for it was not the one he lived through. Still, he allowed the fabrication of the events - he would not exaggerate his own deeds in the fight, but he would not steal the teller's glory from him.
She sees the fellow looking out of place and interested, follows his beckoning. "Hello stranger. It appears you might know me, but I don't know you. I'm Ialda. How can I help you?"
The gentleman in his late 40's looks at a piece of paper and in an English accent, says: "I am Winnington, loyal manservant to my Lady Lavinia Vanderboren. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Yes, there you are, Ialda. Green skin, as I was told, but I had to see it to believe it. That young fool Devon has such an imagination some times. And those must be your companions.. He pauses to look over at the Captain's table and then look down at the paper, as he strains his eyes to read what is written: "Kowaru, Xarnethi, Aeronniell, and Chesley. Interesting names, no?" He smiles a little then reaches into his satchel and pulls out five sealed letters with the following symbol on the corner of the envelope, the same symbol as on Devon Altamir's uniform: Crest
Then Winnington continues, "I hope you and your friends can make it and I will have the pleasure of your company tomorrow. Now, I must hurry home, as I am...how do you say?...a fish out of water in this establishment?" He smiles awkwardly and quickly departs, careful not to bump into any drunken sailors.
As you unseal the wax, each of the letters reads as follows:
"Greetings, and I trust this missive finds you in good health. I am Lavinia Vanderboren and I humbly request your attendance for lunch tomorrow at my estate on Festival Street and Blue Pixie Lane. You come highly referred and I think that I can present you with an opportunity uniquely suited to your skills. I hope to be speaking to you soon."
VV
Xarethi accepts the envelope from Ialda and opens it to peer inside.
"So soon? I haven't really had a chance to get back home. Well, this will be interesting at least." She looks at the elegant writing on the outside of the envelope. "They put an N in my name though. People are always doing that."
Ialda wrinkles her nose at the fellow, slightly inebriated. 'Do what now?....Bye, I guess," she grabs the letters and brings them back to the table wtih her friends. "Um, that guy, who just left, gave these to me. He said he knew Devon, or was it Davon, well, you know the guy with the moustache. Something about meeting Lady Latvina tomorrow. What do you think?" She passes out the letters to each of the group.
Kowaru doesn't notice the Chelaxian until Ialda goes to speak with him, so he's quite curious when she returns with letters. "Devon is as good as his word, it seems. It's interesting that he's found work for us so swiftly. Are any of you familiar with the Vanderborens?" Inwardly, he wonders what sort of work Devon could have lined up for the five of them so swiftly, but he would learn that soon enough. Besides, there was still the matter of lodging to sort out.
Aeronniell reads the note over twice just to ensure she absorbed all the details, all while keeping an eye open for any leering sailors who approach her new friends with ill intentions.
"Lavinia Vanderboren? I want to say that name sounds familiar..."
"It's not familiar to me. But the name does sound blue-blooded enough."
Xarethi quietly remarks. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, just found it curious."
Know. local
Ialda tries to recall anything about Lavinia Vanderboren.
Know. local 1d20+4
Ialda tries to recall anything about Lavinia Vanderboren.
The Vanderboren name is a prominent one in Eleder and they are one of the merchant families part of the Nine Forts Collective, a conglomerate known for its lumber and shipbuilding industry, as well as gold and gemstone trades.
Ialda snaps her fingers. "I don't anyting about that specific Lady, but I do know that the Vanderboren name is a prominent one in Eleder. They are one of the merchant families that are part of the Nine Forts Collective, a conglomerate known for its lumber and shipbuilding industry, as well as gold and gemstone trades. She is one of the movers and shakers in the town, I'd suspect."
"Probably best not to ignore a call to arms, then." Xarethi says with a little smile.
Aeronniell thinks back to her prior stay in Eledar twenty five years ago, and if she remembers anything about the Vanderborens.
Aranel pushes her long hair back and finishes the last of her drink.
"Indeed, it seems we may all have no yet gotten enough of each other and will be sharing at least another meal."
Smiling, the elf stands and quietly moves outside of the Whale to gaze upward into the night sky in contemplation.
Aeronniell remembers mostly that the Vanderborens have been a prominent family in the city since Sargava's independence in 4643 AR.
The elven oracle does not know whether there is a temple of Desna present in town but if she asks the bartender in the bar, he tells her "Yeah, m'lady, Desna's got a big following, especially among the poor and even some Mwangi, being, ya know, goddess of freedom and luck. Ya needs to go down to Temple Street, self-explanatory right? It's right at the border of Portside and New Haliad, about 12 blocks away (1/2 a mile). Follow the boardwalk. You need some company? I'll walk wit ya."