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Benaiah raises an eyebrow when the oracle speaks of the rose as that, simply a rose.
Conduit for power makes more sense. Still... so odd. He nods his head, despite his lack of wisdom to understand.
He raises his other eyebrow when Arimar agrees to the service, knowing full well that where his Aasimar friend went, so would he. He looks quickly to the oracle to see how he might react to the revelation of the torture the man endured as a young boy, obviously a life-altering event.
Malgrim looks to Arimar. "You do not need to accept that burden. We can find another way, I am sure." He glances at the strange man. "There must be some other way than bondage of an undesiring?"
To be made a slave of fate is not a fate I would wish on him. Especially with his past.
"I have no doubt that you will return here one day to try and kill me. " he responds to Arimar. "All who live must face her judgement."
"As for you stone thrower, bondage is a heavy word. Arimar will find my goddess's burden light. He might not even know it is upon his shoulders."
"As to why you came, providence is a word used too frequently, too lightly. But this is quite a collection of powerful individuals, each with their own part to play. Let us begin."
Idmon stands up and walks over to a small table along one wall of the cavern. On the sideboard rests a spiral shaped braided bread. "This is the kolash." Idmon rips out a chunk from the center of the bread that the companions can tell is topped with baked cheese. He takes a bite as a rain of crumbs fall to the cavern floor, and holds the bread out to Mistress Lanvi. She graciously takes the bread and delicately takes a small bite, before passing it on.
As the Companions each eat and pass, Idmon places a lit candle in the hollowed out center before walking to his small, makeshift book case where the kneels down. Removing a double-edged dagger from his side, he begins to flip the pages of The Bones Land in a Spiral. They can see this ceremonial dagger has a dull-grey blade with a depiction of Pharasma's face and hair along the pommel.
He begins to chant while mixing some red colored clay and water in a bowl forming a crude paste. He moves to from one Companion to the other, swirling the clay on their chest in a spiral patter. Coming to Arimar, he instead tries to draw a swirl on the man's forehead rather than his chest.
Dropping the bowl to the floor, he picks up the rose and begins to pluck on petal after another and flick them into the fire, chanting the entire time.
The Companions can smell the cloying floral stench of rose as if they were in the midst of Abrogail's famous Rose Gardens it is so powerful.
Once the rose has been consumed, he reaches into a pouch and pulls out a handful of knuckle bones with unique colored spirals on them. He shakes them by his ear and tosses them onto the cavern floor.
Opening his eyes, he looks at the knuckles and lets out an tormented cry of pain. "[bigger]NOOOOOOOOO! IT CANNOT BE! NOT THIS YEAR, NOT YET!"
Weeping heavily, Idmon takes a moment to gather himself. "So be it. This is what my lady says.
"The enemy of my enemy is the friend of my friend,
The life to live is the life of live."
At these words, Misress Lanvi's face goes ashen.
"Bastards. All of them. I should allow Arimar to kill you where you squat!
"Come, we have no time. We must get back to The Audacious before they are all slaughtered." Mistress Lanvi turns to leave.
Arimar accepts that he has been singled out, but he is not happy about it. While Idmon smudges clay upon Arimar's countenance, Arimar shoots daggers at Idmon's.
Glad for an excuse to be out of there, Arimar shrugs at the prophecy. As far as he can tell, it is useless. It had best prove otherwise, or their deal is off. He thinks better than to tell Idmon such, though, and hurries after Lanvi.
"That babble clearly hit home with you," he calls out after her, "What does it mean? Why will they all be slaughtered and what can we five who remain possibly do to prevent it?"
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"Keoki not know what oracle mean either. Or how this ladyship find truth in Idmon's twisting words. But her obviously know answer. Know more. Know lots," the tribesman says, at last giving up trying to keep his meditation intact. "But this one," he adds, referring to himself. "Would like help you."
"Keoki do all in his power to help keep save those friends you know who be in danger..."
He stands, rising at last to his full height for the first time in front of the others. Reach down, he grabs the katana, nodachi, and longbow from the floor and slings the bundle over his shoulder. Next he grabs to backpack and stands looking at the others, waiting to see if the group will accept his pledge of service and allow him to join their ranks.
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Benaiah screws up his face, knowing it will take him a bit longer than the others to sort through the twisted words to truly understand what just happened.
He does, however, understand exactly what is supposed to happen when Mistress Lanvi encourages them to leave, and quickly. Immediatly thoughts of his rivals-turned-friends race through his mind. He feels instantly guilty for leaving them, worried that he has left them all to their doom and he won't be there to help fight off whatever is coming for them.
"It took us almost a week to get here, how can we get back faster?" he laments. "And if this guy thinks he can help, then get your stuff together. Don't think that I won't have my eye on you. The first time you look at me and see hickory seared flank steaks, I'm going to stick my boot up your flank steak."
Better get to some cooking of my own... he thinks, meaning his alchemy set and his empty mutagen vial.
"You can tell us what in the nine hells all of that meant on the way boss!" Making sure he has all of his stuff, Benaiah helps encourage the urgency of the group to get out of the cave and back to the apparently doomed ship and her crew.
Malgrim listens intently at the madman as he weaves the words of prophecy, hoping that it might give some insight into his own tenuous grasp of the future. Unfortunately the words fail to catch on him and leave him with a relatively shallow thought of "Do I appear this addled when prophecy overtakes me?"
The call of alarm from Mistress Lavni causes him to spring to readiness, however. His reflexes sing as he immediately surveys for danger around them, then focuses on her words, mulling them over before beginning any preparation he can to begin their return voyage.
"With no offense intended to Keoki, I cannot see the benefit this side-voyage has afforded us. If we return to the ship to find its inhabitants slain due to our departure, I will be most upset."
"I'm not too bothered one way or the other about Keoki, Malgrim," Arimar shrugs, "Seems to me we are down one member, and if he's willing to work with us then we need as many hands as we can get. That about equals out on my natural mistrust... so, yeah, whatever."
Arimar just can't seem to muster any enthusiasm for anything right now. He hates that he was forced to enter this now thrice-be-damned temple of Pharasma and he hates even more what that ended up meaning for him.
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The tribesman nods in thanks to the three companions, then steps to follow the mistress. Turning then, "Say you what, Mastress?" he calls after mistress Lanvi, trying to, as politely as he is able, acknowledge that the Lady had a say on his joining the companions. He did not want to presume, or put these kind travelers in a awkward position, nor himself in an unwelcome one.
He was royalty, and would be king one day, but that did not forgive a man for being unkind or a burned upon others.
He moves forward, taking a few steps toward the exit of the chamber, nearer to the room where the grizzly remains of his endeavors were located, but then stops in his tracks. Turning now, he looks back to Idmon and adjusts the backpack slung over the shoulder, opposite his weapons.
"If this be good parting for us," he begins, bowing his head slightly. "This one wish luck on you."
"May your hungers be filled and may the seven fates find you."
After speaking blessing the oracle, he stands to his full height, and pauses to wait for the others to see if they will leave.
"Sit down girl. Fool." Idmon motions for Benaiah to grab her. "You can do nothing right now to help your friends. There are more important concerns in front of you.
"You boys really put your dick in the fireant hill on this one. Your Mistress, as is her want, has made many a dangerous friend. Often times playing both sides.
"Dangerous game to play with zealots. It is not my secret to share, but the Lady of Graves has shown me that perceived enemies will become allies to defeat friends who shall try and kill you for what you do.
"Don't go back to your boat. Head instead to Magnimar. Things will become clearer if you do.
"But if you insist at playing the hero," he looks at Arimar, "A parting gift." Idmon walks over to a section of the cavern and manipulates a hidden catch. A section of the wall springs outward with a snap. He draws forth a nondescript brown leather bag tied with a small rope and clasp of a swirl.
"When you reach the ship, head straight south. It is the fastest way. This will kill the mats physically, but you still need to kill them spiritually.
"Until we are all dead." he hands over the bag and motions for them to leave.
Looking in the bag, they fond a Wand of Widen Defoliant with 50 charges.
Arimar reads the note to himself.
You I will contact soon. Beware your Mistress. She cares nothing for you, only for the profit and the game she plays.
Huh. Nothing I did not know anyway, he thinks to himself with a rueful half-smile, So long as this pays at the end, I don't suppose it makes much difference. She's much like any other employer. Still, best to see we don't end up further embroiled in her games. Who knows, maybe we turn out to be those 'friends' who try to kill her from Idmon's prophecy. Wouldn't take much. Not much at all.
"Thank you for the gift. We will be returning to save the crew," Arimar states unequivocally, "What do you mean by needing to kill them 'spiritually'? They're f+@$ing plants."
Malgrim still makes preparation as quick as he can, but thinks for a moment about the question of spirituality. "Is it not the Dead Calm? Perhaps there is a deeper meaning to those words."
He opens his hands wide and shrugs, before returning to the task of readying the boat. [b]"I admit that these matters are beyond my expertise, my friend."
"What do you mean by needing to kill them 'spiritually'? They're f*&!ing plants."
"Ah boy, don't even know what you did. Pretty girl with big t**$ comes along and you loose your mind. Can't seem to blame you, that one is quite a looker.
"So you are in this far greater that you imagined. Not everything you encounter will you be able to way a sword at, or fling a magic missile. This Dead Calm you entered, it is unnatural. The sailors feel it, but you who are connected to the gods like you are should feel the difference.
"Your problem will lie in your allegiances. When you have to choose between your goddess, your friends, and yourself, who will you choose? The fact that you are thinking about it now is worth the price you paid.
"Farewell companions, we are not destined to meet again, but the lady of graves is a fickle mistress so who knows?" he ends with a cackle.
The companions move back through the caverns to the harbor. The storm is still raging outside the relative safety of the caverns. Mistress Lanvi is moving frenetically about, preparing for their departure.
Raim seems to have stepped on the corner of her cloak tugging her back as she flits about. "Dammit, Arimar! Get this shambling mass of rotting flesh off of me. We need to strike out NOW to Magnimar."
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"Wait... What of the ship? What is going on? Answer me now.. Boss." he adds the last word in almost after forgetting it, hoping it punctuates the point of needing to know.
"You know more than you are telling us. Fill us in, because right now the easiest choice I see is to head back to the ship and defend it against whatever may come. You seem excited to head straight to Magnimar."
"You're the boss, and that means we'll do what you say, but don't expect us to be all that excited about defending you unless we know why you are calling us away from what we want to do."
"Magnimar? No. We have the means to get out of the Sargassum now, and we need to return to The Audacious," Armiar stubbornly sticks with his former decision. He also refuses to tell Raim to move. Let her run into rotting flesh. B$#@@ deserves it.
"I will not endanger an entire crew of men and then just leave them to their fate on the say-so of a f%#@ing madman," Arimar crosses his thin arms across his bony chest, "Unless you can give us a whole f~&+-load of a better explanation than you've done so far. You pay the bills, yes, but the bill is remarkably f@++ing small for the amount of s$*! we've been put through."
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Hearing someone else stand firm for what his natural reaction was, Benaiah sticks out his jaw and puffs out his chest, as if waiting to see what their defiance will do to the boss.
He looks over to Malgrim, then to the newcomer, Keoki. Finally he looks back again to Mistress Lanvi and her handmaiden.
"So back to the ship?" he says, assuming the matter is already mostly decided, and waiting to hear what objections the boss might have.
Malgrim nods. This is the right path, I am sure of it. He looks to the Mistress resolutely as he adds in. "We have been given the means to free the ship, we cannot desert it now. I will not leave those men to die, if that fate can be avoided."
Uncoiling her whip, she flicks the barbed end out and slashes a rivulet in the wall, scattering powered stone in a puffed cloud.
"Dammit Arimar. We have been down this road before. What part of you work for me do you not understand? I cannot and will not divulge any and everything to you at every juncture. You are and will forever be on a need to know basis. My foes are as plentiful as the sands on the beach, as well as my allies are as plentiful as the stars in the sky.
"Though vague to you, madman may he be, he told me much and more. Though I had only suspected before. His words made it clear who is really after me. And now you. By allying myself with the Collector, his enemy is now my enemy. Mayhaps yours depending on how much they know.
"Idmon is right, The Audacious is probably dead to rights. I care for them as much as you, but we can do nothing for them. But in Magnimar, I have the upper hand. There is no time to lose. We must get back there. I shall go with or without you. But as always, I need you."
She climbs into the boat steadied by her handmaiden, scuttling forward towards the oars. Once again the lightening lights up the stormy sky as a peal of thunder reverberates through the cavern.
"Pay them." Mistress Lanvi intones to her handmaiden. The young woman digs in satchel, removes a leather bag cinched tight with a cord, and flings at Benaiah's feet.
"Our agreed upon price." She looks pleading to the companions.
Arimar inspects the pouch and makes a rough estimate. More than she necessarily agreed to before Benaiah's bungling of the negotiations.
"How many days from here is Magnimar?" asks Arimar, weighing up the decision in his mind.
"When we get there, you will need to hire someone to rescue the crew of The Audacious. If the crew cannot use this wand themselves, then their rescuers will need to be capable. They will also need fresh water (or the means to create it) and fresh supplies. A ship should be able to moor beyond the Sargassum and then send a low-draft shallop or row-boat to find them in the same way we would have... traveling back to the center of it all." Arimar makes very sure to cover the bases on his stipulation. "If you can agree to that - since it is only right that you do so anyway - then we can move on Magnimar."
Arimar holds on to the pouch of coins and weighs it as though about to either throw it back or stow it in his haversack.
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With a weary sigh of resignation, "Three days. Three days to Magnimar. If you wish I will do as you ask. Because you asked, and because I too care for the wily old pirate. He is a crafty bastard. Hopefully he has found his own way out. Hopefully.
"Did I ever tell you the time he spun a yarn about some long lost island? That one has his head full of delusions of grandeur. And praise Claistra his old shipwright took off on him. Thought Idmon was bad, that one. Ugh!" She shakes her head visibly relaxing that the companions will continue to accompany her.
All the companions turn to the opening of the cave and see the sheets of rain pouring down.
"Now who is this man and where the hell is Caendaor?" she points to Keoki.
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"Caerador is gone, overwhelmed by a restless spirit within the caves. I've never seen anything like it..." Benaiah trails off, his thoughts disappearing into the void of his mind, not unlike Caerador himself.
"Wait, so we aren't going back for..." Benaiah's shoulders slump. He is vexed in a way, unsure why he cares so much for the sailors of that vessel. He realizes quickly that he cares about the well-being of his friends more than he might have realized as well.
Something that he never would have done in a previous lifetime, back in Cheliax. Even when the slave was murdered by his own, unknowing hands, the shock and betrayal was rooted in a selfish place, angry at what had been forcibly taken from him.
Shaking the thoughts from his head, he is pleased to find that the cobwebs have cleared a bit. They will be following the boss's orders, and she seemed satisfied. Something inside him knew that the motley crew aboard The Audacious wouldn't be easily laid low, so he took comfort in the thought that everything would work out just fine.
Straightening his slumped shoulders back out, he put a stern look on his face. "This is Keoki. I'm not sure what to think of him either. Assuming he isn't lying, he is a royal heir to the Fifty Father's Throne... Did I say that right?... Whatever that is anyways. He appears to be capable of holding his own in a fight, as he killed the three brigands who beat us to the caves just before we got here."
Benaiah looks Keoki up and down for what must be the fiftieth time, as if re-assessing the man for Mistress Lanvi's sake.
"He is looking for advisers for when he is king, which is why he was speaking with Idmon." Benaiah leans closer to the Mistress, holding his right hand on the left side of his mouth, as if his meaty palm might completely block any sound from reaching Keoki's ears. He speaks in a terribly disguised whisper, though everyone can still hear him with the quality acoustical properties of the inlet. "How he plans to get strangers to pick up and move to a cannibal island without assuming its because they are the main course, I'll probably never figure out."
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"Aye, my lady," the tribesman bows to Mistress lanvi. "Me am be Keoki, as big man with many scars here tell. He speak no lie."
He lifts up one hand grasping the bundle of odd weapons, obviously tian in origin, then lifts his backback with the other. "Keoki travel far to as gather advisors. One day, Keoki sit on Fifty Father's Throne. Need mighty souls, men and women, that talk smart words and help guide Enya be great. Help me by advisoring. Keoki only as good as him companions."
"Idmon meant be advisor for Keoki, but oracle words too twisting and not fit for help be leading. His meat am gone too bad for Keoki's taste. Oracle not talk straight enough to be advisor of Enya. Position too important," Now lowering the his weapons and gear to his sides, he remains still and does not take any steps closer to the vessel that the Mistress and her handmaiden now occupy.
"Me no join, if you no want. Keoki only offer his service, and service of his favored six, to help you and friends. The world be big, and many great advisors to be found. Perhaps your collector help Keoki find advisors."
"Perhaps, you and friends," he starts, motioning to Mistress Lanvi and gathered companions. "Eventually want be Keoki's advisors."
"I think we need some extra help," Arimar notes, "I'm not sure if Keoki is the right man for the job, but we haven't exactly got a whole raft of mercenaries to choose from now, do we?" Arimar looks down at the money again. "At least this gets split three ways, but Keoki, you're welcome to Caerador's share of the rest of our pay. We'll have to get acquainted on the way to Magnimar." Yes, I said 'Magnimar', Arimar adds silently, shooting daggers at Lanvi, You get your way again, b~#%!, but I will hold you to your promise of aid and watch you like a hawk until you deliver it.
"Shall we be off then? Raim, stop pestering the Mistress and get to rowing."
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Raim pulls ponderously upon the oars.
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"Argh!" Arimar cries out in frustration, "Raim, wait until we're all aboard first. Fido, stay about ten feet ahead of the shallop and tear through anything that dares to approach us without my permission."
"Woooaaaarrr," Fido groans, the closest thing to 'woof' the rotting bunyip flesh can manage. The hideous thing flops ungracefully into the water and obediently swims ahead of the little boat.
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Benaiah catches his balance, barely, as he moves to step onto the small boat just as Raim begins to row it away. He flashes an annoyed look at the zombie before realizing that the mindless creature doesn't care.
As they all board the shallop, Benaiah mumbles under his breath something about not going to live with a bunch of cannibals more than once.
Seriously? Does this guy really think he can convince someone to go live with him? I don't care how tropical that island is...
Eventually Benaiah takes a place with one of the oars and begins to assist rowing.
"Hold onto your butts boys, it's gonna get choppy out there."
”Very well, Keoki. Well met. I am Mistress Lanvi, priestess of Calistra. You shall provide me with passage to Magnimar and I shall compensate you as your new friends will be. I shall give you every opportunity to find mighty souls for your Fifty Father's Throne. Now if you please.” she motions towards the shallop.
The agreement set, the Companions look out the cavern entrance at the raging storm.
Rethinking their deal, they nevertheless get into the small boat and prepare for worst. Raim continues to work the oars while Fido just keeps swimming.
Benaiah takes a position by the tiller to steer the shallop up the swells and traverse the back side, doing everything he can to keep the boat in the right position to keep from capsizing.
Arimar silently curses his inability to remove water as he can only create water and there is too much of that already. He and Malgrim both work furiously bailing the shallow pool of water in the boat. Not for the last time, Malgrim laments his sea-borne adventures.
Keoki is dumbfounded at the sheer stupidity of sailing into this storm, but does his best to help when needed.
Mistress Lanvi and her handmaiden, breaking stereotype, begin to pitch in and help as much as the companions.
Hours pass and the storm finally shows signs of abating. The companions thank their patrons for delivering them safely through the worst of the storm. They all collapse exhausted where the sit, except for Raim and Fido,
Keoki, resting on his side, spots a ship on the horizon. Unsure of friend or foe, he informs his companions of his discovery.
"I can bail no more," says an exhausted Arimar, "Friend or foe, I say we hail the ship. We'll either have a fight or a rescue on our hands. At this point, I care not which. I might even summon enough hunger to enjoy my food after that ordeal."
As a precaution, Arimar bids Fido take Raim beneath the waves and commands him to follow their master out of sight.
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"Are we really sure we... Ah, you only live once right?" Benaiah chuckles as he gets in the boat and stretches his arms in preparation for the grueling effort ahead.
"Holy balls! I can't believe we survived that! Ha! That's a yarn to tell your kids about, if any of us live long enough to have kids." he chuckles and punches Keoki in the shoulder good-naturedly.
Breathing heavily, despite his mirth, Benaiah nods along with Arimar. "Yes, lets make our way toward the ship. While we are waiting, take the tiller Keoki while I see if my reagents and lab are all still in one piece. The monster version of me would be sorely disappointed if he couldn't come out to play when a fight broke out..."
"Benaiah, I hate to be the bearer of ill-news," notes Arimar with a sly grin showing the alchemist exactly how much he enjoys the news that is to follow, "But with the number of women you have bedded over just the years that I've known you, I must inform you that you are most likely the father of at least a dozen children.
"Luckily, though, their whore mothers are unlikely to know for sure if you're the one who sired them," Arimar pats his cock playfully, "Heh. I bet I've fathered more than you, too!"
Malgrim, not for the last time, laments his sea-borne adventures. "A desert. Or walking. Walking through the desert. Even returning to being burried under rocks in a cave in seem preferable to the storms and sea." He does try to keep his feelings internalized and not waste undue breath that could be used to aid their journey, however.
Malgrim shakes his head at the antics of Arimar and Benaiah. At least morale is intact. He maintains a straight face, and quite seriously states, "Do not worry. I doubt either of you may still be able to sire children, given the questionable substances you've imbided and questionable company you've imbided with." He shakes his head. "But yes. We should likely hail the ship, assuming our patron does not object? I could make a signal if need be."
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"Sails be ahead," the tattooed man states, rising to his feet and standing in the swaying vessel. He raises one arm and points off in the direction of the approaching ship, now little more than a smudge against the horizon. "Be running straight on us."
At hearing the discussion of Arimar's and Benaiah's ability, and probability, of having children, the tribesman sit and stares at his new companions. He looks from one to the next as him mind processes the meaning of their talk, and the implications behind their apparent jests.
Suddenly he leans forward, moving in extremely close to Arimar. Keoki's arms reach and encircle the man in warm and compassionate hug. "Congratulations, freind Arimar! Great fates must be with you," the tribesman laughs, and tightens his embrace on the aasimar. "You father many children. Have many offspring. This great honor in Enya, and bring much praise to family."
"Where Keoki from, mates must make children until have at least one boy... one girl. Then, they no more make children. The more children before have one boy, one girl, the larger honor for family."
"You have more than dozens offspring," he says smiling, the tribesman now laughing along with the others having finally understood their meaning. "Fates be wth you!"
"If able have many dozen children and not yet have one boy, one girl," he continues to laugh, but at last releases his hug on the man. Strangely however, the tattooed man then begins to awkwardly pet at Arimar's crotch with his hand while continuing to laugh. "What be your secret have such many kids? Where be your life-mate?"
Then he turns to embrace Benaiah in a similar manner.
"Is this guy for real?" Arimar indicates Keoki with a thumb, "Have you yet to see the rest of Golarion? I have no life-mate, but many mates... and no time to strap some sheep skin onto my knob before I... no, you can't possibly be serious, can you?"
Arimar wonders away. "Thanks for the sunny outlook there, Malgrim. To be honest, I didn't think much on the likelihood of my on sterility. Thank you for that haunting thought to send me to sleep tonight."
The necromancer looks on as the ship continues to head their direction.
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"Keoki be serious," the tribesman continues to laugh and leans in to hug the aasimar once more. "Keoki travel, see world. But so much left be seen. If Arimar take one life-mate, or many, we still be friends." Leaning back from their hug, the tattooed man looks across the horizon at the tiny speck dotting the horizon and wonders at what fate the approaching ship might bring.
"But... if Arimar be having dozens children," Koeki adds. "Me need convince you come to my home. Come to Enya. Virility blessing. Many important families of Enya desire such blessing."
Turning now, he looks to Malgrim. "You father many children too, Malgrim?" he asks, noticing how the hobgoblins is obviously not enjoying his sea faring trip thus far. "Is your race be known for love of sea travel?"
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"Fjarn's teeth, this guy is serious!" Arimar shakes his head, as though struggling to believe it. "Since leaving the Pathfinders, we've been stuck at sea for weeks that seemed like aeons, torn apart by bunyips, been sold off in advance to some 'Collector', and I've been bonded in servitude to Pharasma of all deities. Why in nine hells does Idmon have to serve that f%~#ing god of all of them?
"And now I have a bald, semi-functional mental defective complimenting me on my dick." Laughing so hard at this, Arimar doesn't even notice if Keoki is offended or not.
"Lanvi," Arimar turns to their 'mistress', "Would that we'd never met. If I'd known all this would happen, I would have let Raim beat us senseless."
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"Friend, Arimar," Keoki begins, now beginning to sit at his full height. His spine is raised and straightened, and his shoulders pushed back. His eyes close once more, as they had in the cave chamber with Idmon. "Keoki be not complimenting your manhood."
"But what you be able accomplish with it," he adds, trying to clarify his intent. He does not laugh of poke fun at the aasimar, but simply wants to make his point is known. It seems the tribesman does not understand how awkward this type of conversation might make new friends.
Arimar begins to respond but thinks better of it. Best to just leave this at that. I'd have a better chance of intelligent conversation with Raim.
"Thank you anyway," he manages before turning his attention back to the ship.
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Benaiah looks downright queasy at the prospect of being a father as mentioned by Arimar. Unable to break from the disturbing thoughts of how awful a fate it would be to have him for a father and a whore for a mother, he struck speechless by the awkward exchange that happens right in front of him, so much that he barely reacts when Keoki turns to embrace him the same way.
"Yea, so I hadn't considered the results of post-whore-orgy. Thanks for that uncomfortable thought..."
Benaiah shudders as his meandering mind begins to consider a cabal of hulking, angry, self-entitled siblings all plotting his demise. Suddenly a smile creeps onto his face.
"Heh. I wonder what my pops would think if he knew he was a grandpa, if there really are little Benaiah's running around somewhere."
That last thought is enough to amuse him as the ship approaches.
Peering to the south, closer and moving much faster, the ship draws close enough for the companions to finally make out details of their pursuer. The ship is much larger than the shallop, and sports two mats devoid of sails. The weathered timbers seem well polished as escutcheons line the rails sporting different heraldry. Between the two masts, a type of scaffold connects them, and figures can be seen jumping up and down upon it. On each side of the ship the dip and pull of oars can been seen as it streaks towards them.
As the ship travels parallel to the shallop at a distance of about 200 feet, the companions can see shapes moving from one mast to the other on the scaffolding. The humanoid figures are covered in light brown fur, with a slightly stooped posture, a shaggy mane, and a fanged muzzle. Mimicking wings, flaps of skin that hang beneath their arms. The humanoids sport human like intelligence in simian bodies.
Arimar can tell the companions that these are in fact Hadozee.
The companions can see that they are all well armed and hostile looking except for one hadozee in particular that seems lost in concentration.
"Good, hostile enemies. Something to do rather than prolong this conversation..."
Malgrim looks up to the strange creatures, something that he had never encountered in his travels. He looks to his more worldly companions for support. "They certainly do not look friendly. Does anyone know more about these apes? Aside from the fact that they likely take offense to being called apes?"
Readying himself, he prepares to harden his skin and spring into combat in hostility flares up.
"I don't know if they'll be as hostile as they seem..." Arimar notes, "From what I've learned, they can be quite fun-loving. I guess we'll just have to see. Best not to anger them, though."
Arimar steps onto the prow of the shallop and unsteadily gropes around before grabbing onto of Benaiah for support. "Ho there!" he bellows as loud as he can manage, "Perchance are you sailing for Magnimar or even just a nearby port? We would love a quicker and more stable way to make land than this thing. We can pay for passage, once we are safely ashore."
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Benaiah fingers his mutagen, though is glad he didn't drink it right away, for fear that the impression it would give might cause outright hostility.
"I can't tell, do they have tails? Because if it doesn't have a tail it's not a monkey, you see, monkeys have a different kind of shape. If it doesn't have a tail it's not a monkey, it's an Ape."
Benaiah furrows his brow and regards Malgrim, "Do you think they would take offense to being called an ape? I should probably keep my mouth shut."
"Simian," Arimar says softly and to the wind. Then he realizes he said it out loud.
"Simian is the cover-all term," Arimar says it louder, addressing Benaiah and Malgrim more directly, "If you wanted to use one. You probably can't go far wrong calling them by their correct species, though, 'Hadozee'. The account I read said they were superb swashbucklers. I guess we'll find out."
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Malgrim mutters softly, "Ha-do-zee. That is a dozy of a name."
Speaking louder, he addresses the ship. "Honored Hadozee! We greet you!"
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The tribesman looks to his companions as they joke amongst themselves, far from ear shot of the creatures, but stares at them in confusion. "Agree, do look like semi-men," he adds in agreement, not realizing he has mispronounced the word simian.
Next the tattooed man lowers his weapons on the interior planks of the vessel, then stands and raises his arms to show he carries nothing. As both Arimar and Malgrim address the creatures, Keoki stands with his head lowered, clearly bowing to the beasts and refraining from making eye contact or signs of hostility. Both of the man's arms press slowly forward, reaching before himself, and his hands nestle together forming the faint resemblance of a bowl, a simple supplicating gesture. From his time roaming the small, yet wild portions of the jungles upon Enya, the tribesman hoped he could convey even a small bit of the universal language that all things learn, and inherently know from the time before ever there was words, and performs a gesture a of simple supplication, and pleading help that he hopes will not be lost on the hadozee.
As the companions call out to the Hadozee, the one that seemed to be concentrating rather than staring at the companions must have been casting some sort of spell. He looks up and begins to laugh as a circular sargasso mat about 50 feet in diameter encircles the shallop.
A Large creature that ends its move on a square of light mat must succeed on a DC 15 Balance check or break through. Huge or larger creatures break through automatically.
Malgrim thinks to himself Well, there are *worse* ways to mispronounce 'Simian'... Merciful stones, Arimar and Benaiah must have gotten to me.
Watching as the mat encircles them, he whispers, "It appears that these men are able to control the choking plants that surround us. I wonder if they have limits, or if the entire area is their own trap."
Regardless, he awaits the battle that will likely embroil them