The Reclamation of Zahvroma (Inactive)

Game Master Signore di Fortuna

An interesting bend in the river. "Thank you, Maviv. Thank you, Saviv." Harakhty bowed to each in turn as was custom, placing his weapons and pack into the compartment, then - with a second thought - his coin satchel as well. "For some time now, I've lived in the great city. Don't you miss your hometrees aboard this ship? I know I do."

The Vanara's question was two-pronged. While he was authentically interested in his counsins' experience with adapting to life on a boat, he was, with the admission of the blackmail, more interested in creating yet another obstacle for the captain - in reserve anyway. I will have to learn more about this Horace the Red. The explorer's league was more means to an end than anything, and once some section of land was secured, he needn't continue working with them. Neither, apparently, did Saltspray, so it was only a matter of leverage to steer a different course. While a bounty may be something to avoid, even his superficial knowledge of maritime operations told Harakhty a captain was nothing without his crew. After all, the bounty was a byproduct of some action, a sideshow. The ship was Rando's life, his main affair - without it, things came to a stop.

Diverse as the crew was, he doubted they all moved in lockstep with the captain, particularly the humans he insulted earlier. Looking to his distant relatives, Harakhty did not want to casue issue between them and being happy on the boat - if they truly were happier here than in their groves - but he would not, could not abandon Naeem. If push came to shove, his choice would be clear.

Harakhty took off his robe and lay it across the top hammock Maviv and Saviv showed him, leaving him in his more natural state of shorts. He realized now the captain was (probably) not afraid of Skaar, so perhaps he shouldn't be either. It was a hard feeling to shake though, and sleeping near him wasn't going to help matters.

"It is more than a matter of repaying the man who saved so many of us. We do miss the trees," Maviv says. "But Captain Saltspray treats us all like family, for he has no other. He is like a father to us and we love him as we would our own back in Lakkara. We would follow him and help him. Ship life would be hard without him. Horace the Red had taken his home. Captain Saltspray wanders the world with this ship. Even if he uses a sharp tongue, deep down I know the love he feels for us. Except Jitty, but Jitty is a bad man."

Saviv looks up. "Others are coming. If there is more to discuss, this is not the place."

"Is it Jitty, Saviv?" Maviv asks in a panic.

Saviv closes his eyes. "No, it is the son of the earth, the drunkard and the dark one."

Damn the luck. Their appreciation of the captain wasn't going to make this any easier. Maybe there was another way around it - this Jitty, perhaps. Harakhty nodded. "More talk later," he said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders in farewell. There was also more to Saviv than met the eyes - or his hearing was quite acute.

He felt bad for not being able to offer the pair a small gift of food or shelter - they were treating him quite well for having just met him. For now, he hopped onto his hammock, clearing space for what seemed to be a small group on its way.

"Yes," Saviv says. "We will talk later. Of your strange prophecy, perhaps."

Saviv opens a hatch above the hammocks and the brothers quietly depart before Skaar, Stephen and Drago enter.

My prophecy? The only one which came to mind was that relating to his birth, and he'd not spoken to Saviv of it. While possible the tribes could have communicated the story to each other over the years, for Saviv to have heard of it, remember it, and make the connection Harakhty was the Vanara in question would be a long shot.

The only people outside his tribe he spoke to of it were some memebers of Nethys' clergy, and most of those he spoke to seemed to pay it little mind, perhaps either out of dismissal or his low status.

It seemed he was not the only one apt in investigation then. He was just thankful Saviv didn't alienate him as much of his tribe did.

The shutting of the hatch brought Harakhty out of his surprised daze, and the brothers were gone.

Skaar ducked a bit and turned sideways to squeeze his bulky form into the cabin with its simple hammocks.

Six beds. Six of us.

The hulking orc cast a glance at Harakhty before returning his attention to the human that had offered him a drink.

Harakhty gazed back at Skaar and the newcomers, able to muster a straight gaze. Being up in the hammock made him feel safer, reminding him of the canopies of his home.

"A, my fine-pelted associate, there you are. Would you care to join us in the traditional naval erasing of the brain?" He takes out a bottle of rather nice whiskey. "The good stuff. Saving the absinthe for more creative times."

"Sure I'll have a sip. After you, of course." Harakhty did not think the new acqauintance would try to poison him, but it couldn't hurt to be safe.

"You're godsdamned right after me! Trying to steal my whiskey?! Got my eye on you, furrball!" Stephen pours drinks for all involved. "Here's to swimmin with bowlegged women."

Cute Stephen, real cute. Lol.

Drago takes his glass and drinks a sip, the alcohol tingling his special palette. That won't do and you know it. Said his mother's voice. Letting out a heavy sigh, he finished his drink and handed the glass to Dr. Savage for a refill.

Cyna will try and chat with the crew. Find out what we can expect on our voyage.

Harakhty outstretches an arm to take the glass, not leaving his perch. The drink was too strong for his taste; he'd little alcohol until his time with the church, and there only wine. His palette was not refined enough do differentiate many of the characteristics, but he knew strong from weak. He must finish it though - it would be rude to Stephen not to do so.

He speaks to Stephen after finishing his drink. "You sound tense. Maybe the trip will help you relax - and the drink." Edgy was more like it, but no need to provoke him.

Skaar answered Stephen's toast with a bass chuckle.

"Dey all end up bowleg'd..."

The massive greenskin sniffed the glass loudly twice before tossing the contents into his maw and down his throat.

"Thanks."

"Tense? TENSE? ME?!? Ah, no my friend, you have me in the wrong on that one. I'm as calm as an elf in the woods. Steady Stephen, as they once said. As for this trip, I doubt an unceasing barrage of nature's cruelty will be relaxing anyone! But someone has to do it, you know, and nobody else will tell the truth. Now this is a man to admire, here, this Skaar. Drank that whiskey properly, as if death could come at any moment! Which it could! But it won't! Yet. This monstrous mountain of a man, sent here as our protection, not to watch over us like a monitor, but to ensure our safety. Who wouldn't be calm under his supervision? What could come at us that Skaar could not pound like so much whiskey?" Savage pours another for himself, Skaar, and Drago. "No offense, you unscrupulous thief of a Vanara! But the whiskey didn't seem to agree with you. If only I had my collection here ..."

Aurelea strode up the gangplank of the ship, eyes alert to the exotic crew as they eyeballed her. While her leather armor and the longsword that hung easily at her hip marked her as a warrior, it was the confident, relaxed yet wary stride that hinted danger to those smart enough to pay attention.

Clearly the minority on this ship, she nonetheless walked up the gangplank with purpose, heeled boots announcing her presence as she looked for the ship’s captain.

The big orc took the refilled glass and tossed it back much as he did the first one.

"Listen ta 'im", Skaar laughed. "The Doc knows how ta live."

Without another word, the hulking brute returned the glass he'd been drinking from, clapped Savage on the shoulder with a mammoth paw, and headed back to the deck to check on the last member of the party.

As the four of you finish your drinks (or prepare for the next one), your last companion enters the room. From above, you hear Rando bellow the order to raise the anchor and set sail. The boat lurches forward a little and begins to move along the waves.

While not under the impression Stephen was misleading him, Harakhty took him to be one of the more ... eccentric types. Calm as an elf in the woods? Then he is as still as a hummingbird. Yes and no, depending on the eyes.

He was glad Stephen didn't have his collection. The mention of liquoring-up Skaar didn't bode well to him, and Harakhty surrendered his glass in example. The doctor's unorthodox way of speaking made it quite difficult to determine if he was accusing him of being a thief - which was true from time to time, merely making the assumption as many did with Vanaras, or just being his bizarre self and saying bizarre things. The truth likely lay somewhere between the three.

Laying back against the hammock, his eyes and ears stayed alert, mostly focused on Skaar, as his body relaxed - as much as it could around Skaar anyway.

This new woman was not yet introduced to him, but he would let her initiate the greeting if she wanted. For now he enjoyed the movement of the boat. It was different; he'd never been on anything larger than a canoe.

Hurray progress!

The big orc stops when the snake-woman enters with the final party member in tow. He matched the armored woman's gaze and studied her for a moment.

"Skaar", he said plainly as he jabbed a thumb at himself.

Sorry about the double-take Harakhty. I needed to adjust for Aurelea being lead into the room.

Cyn smiles to Sercel says "See you there" and then makes her way deeper into the ship and heads toward the galley.

As she met the rest of the group she stopped, her head angling up as her eyes followed the towering height of the massive orc.

Tall and slender, yet femininely well-muscled, she carries with her the aura of a graceful predator. Her long dark hair and strong aristocratic features would result in her being quite stunning were it not offset by an odd darkness and slightly unneving air of impending violence.

Sharp green eyes gaze piercingly into those around her, assessing strengths and weaknesses, weighing and measuring, leaving most with the sensation that they have somehow been found wanting.

"Huh....bodyguard....interesting." she mutters aloud as Skaar introduces himself. "I'm Aurelia, quite the group we have here."

As Aurela entered the room and introduced herself, Drago's mother commented, Well isn't she a pretty one. I wonder how she tastes? Shaking his head a little, the sorceror ignored the comment.

Putting down his glass, he responded, "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Drago Skorzeny. And I agree, this is quite a group we have here."

Aurelea looked to be well-born, and she might be considered attractive, Harakhty presumed. Her words spoke to her directness though, her gaze to her acute way of doing business. Face value, that one. Unlike Drago, he felt there was about as much to Aurelea as met the eye.

That was a different story than Saviv, who seemed to have an uncanny way of knowing things. Something about him was special and, at least for the moment, unbeknownst to him. The markings on his fur were unlike those he'd seen before, but then again, his tribe was quite a distance away - perhaps they all were of that pattern. Later, they would have to speak again - about not just Saviv, but Jitty too, Harakhty reminded himself.

"Great Caydeen's bender! A female on a ship! Our group is complete now, I suppose? Whiskey?"

Skaar grunts in affirmation to Aurelea's comment.

The woman looked like she knew her way around a blade. That would make his job harder or easier. Either she'd know how to fend for herself a bit and he wouldn't have to keep as a close of an eye on herself or she'd know just enough to get herself in trouble. The big orc hoped for the former but expected the latter.

The first day of the voyage goes without incident. The waters are calm and the wind is temperate. Rando is surprisingly quiet and the rest of the crew tries (with one notable exception) to ingratiate themselves with you. You get the feeling that they're quite glad to have you on board, except Jitty who gives everyone dirty looks occasionally as he tends to his duties. If you spend any time observing the older man, he paces and looks to the west constantly.
You find that Rando is held in high-esteem amongst the crew and that Robaldi, the cook, is his older brother.

Go ahead and post what you'll do for the rest of the day.

Skaar spent most of the first day playing the part of the 'strong and silent' type. A lifetime of hardship had taught him that it was best to go unnoticed when possible (something the hulking orc was notoriously bad at). People were often afraid of him and scared people did stupid things - sometines stupid things warranted him to hurt them. Unless prompted, the greenskin brute was content to simply observe the Explorers that were his charges and the crew, sizing them up and trying to get a glimpse of what to expect from each of them.

When evening comes around and dinner's been served, Skaar makes his way below decks for a visit to the female half-orc's cabin (the one that had been sizing him up in her own way).

Skaar's not much for romance but he'd make an effort to learn her name and role aboard the ship before showing up. Also, if he can, he'll come with a couple extra whiskey rations or whatever other spirits are being served on the ship.

After a spell, Harakhty decided to get out into the open air again. The wind was welcome, a bringer of change. The crew seemed to change as well. The captain wasn't as convivial as the day they met, and Harakhty felt perhaps he had misplaced his judgment with him as he saw the sniping glances this Jitty was giving the crew. Indeed, the brothers had the right of the matter, it seemed, though the motive behind the dissidence was what really interested him.

The crew was rather accepting of him, particularly compared to his tribe and much of the city. Perhaps it was the racial diversity, or perhaps it was the life at sea, but it was a halcyon atmosphere. He made it a point to seek out the brothers when they weren't too busy - and away from Jitty.

"Good morning, Saviv. Good morning, Maviv. The weather seems to be with us today," greeted Harakhty, giving them a smile as he approached. He lowered his voice a bit "It seems even the breeze cannot cheer your Jitty up though - is he always so sour?" He watched Maviv carefully, for he seemed to react most strongly to Jitty's mention earlier.

"And you, Saviv," he said, turning to him "said something about a prophecy. The only one I know of is more of a curse than anything." Harakhty ran a hand up his torso's fur to highlight his point. "My tribe's fur is gold. I was taken as something of a monster with these stripes, and some omens are said to hang on me as well. Not good ones." A pang of sadness hit him as he remembered his earlier years before Naeem, so he felt his necklace to remedy some of the depression. He felt comfortable around the brothers, so he feel the need to portray himself as strong, armored with emotional resilience. It was liberating, in a way.

Cyna will spend her time on the ship keeping her head down and her eyes and ears open. "This jitty character is certainly nervous but he may very well be a victim himself no use jumping to conclusions" she will also make note of the other 5 guests names and affiliations " probably best to keep this all buisness with them least I forget why I'm here" she reassures herself remembering how "lively" some of them can be.

"Jitty has something planned for today," Maviv answers cryptically. "Today is perhaps the day of our prophecy."

"You have yet to tell us your name, cousin," Saviv starts. "I know of your prophecy for it is our tribe that wrote it. Maviv and I, we are Starseers, blessed and cursed to watch over the fate of the world written in the heavens. Our meeting was not foretold, events have steered your destiny and ours to intertwine. We know you have been judged harshly by your tribe, blessings through hardship are hard to accept. We do not judge. You are a vessel of your own destiny."

Saviv invites you to climb up into the rigging. Maviv and he adeptly use their hands and tails to recline against the hempen ropes.

"Though we know of your prophecy, we cannot tell the road you shall take. Perhaps Zahvroma will be your salvation, perhaps not. The stars are rarely specific," Saviv continues. "Your friends shall guide the currents of your future, for you alone cannot do it. And do not look upon your appearance with sorrow, for it means you are different from other Suntooths, meant for greater things."

Looking at the sky, Maviv picks up the conversation. "I see the pain in your eyes, cousin. Your heart aches, but so too does the heart of your lover. You honor his love by taking this voyage. He knows this."

"A thousand apologies, cousins! I was so taken with excitement at seeing my distant family, I thought nothing of introducing myself. I'm Harakhty, my tribe already known to you." Were it a readily visible expression for Vanaras, he would be blushing with embarassment at the most simple of customs to be followed. While a bit in awe of their knowledge, excitement overtook him. "You know of Naeem? Is he well? Where is he now?!"

Realizing afterward he was being selfish, he caught himself and looked at Naeem. "You say the stars are not specific, so what does your prophecy say of Jitty? If this fate is not yet decided, perhaps we can steer it in a better direction."

"Think nothing of it, Harakhty," Maviv says. "We know not of Naeem's whereabouts, all we know is that he is well. As for Jitty, the moment of his treachery is at hand. Long have we known that he would take advantage of Captain Saltspray's mercy. We know it was he who dumped our cargo into the water, forcing us to stop in Icathia. We are fairly sure it was he who contacted Vonder and perhaps Horace. If he has already done so, then events cannot be changed."

"You get ahead of yourself, Maviv," Saviv chides. "Harakhty must understand the why's more than the what's. Jitty was a murderer, a pirate who worked for Horace the Red. He burned down a church of Sarenrae in Brannum and killed many of its members, of which Rando was a cleric. Jitty cut out Rando's eye and Rando took his leg. Jitty begged for mercy and Rando gave it to him, taking him upon this ship in hopes of redeeming him.
"Rando used to minister to us and offer us blessings of the Dawnflower, this was about ten years ago. We wanted to follow him then for he spoke truth and offered mercy to those in need. Many of the crew here have been following him from his ministry days.
One day, we read in the stars that the servant of the sun had fallen in the west. We feared for Rando and set off in search of him. We found him in Jin Zhao, drowning his sorrows. Our prophecy has been that the "stars must lift up the sun once more".
Jitty has never accepted Rando's attempts at redeeming him. He harbors malice and greed in his heart. Horace the Red was angry at Rando, because he survived Jitty's assault and the fact that Rando is destined to bring freedom back to Brannum. So much so to offer five thousand platinum for Rando's head. The captain's destiny is written in the stars, but it can be changed. Jitty has tried poison, accidents and all other manners to dispose of Rando; but we have intervened. However, if Jitty has contacted Horace, there is very little we can do. Battle shall come. We may be lucky if Horace only sends a lieutenant."

Aurelea spent the evening mixing with the crew, getting a feel for the attitudes of those on the ship. The welcoming feeling aboard the vessel was a bit of a surprise though the notable exception, that shifty bastard Jitty, seemed ready to stick a dagger in somebody’s back at a moment’s notice.

That one will take some watching.

She kept to herself for the most part, satisfied to observe the ship’s dynamic, waking the following morning to spend an hour studying her spell book, followed by an our on deck practicing her blade work. She could feel the eyes of the crew on her as she worked, the salt air refreshing and genuinely enjoyable. As sometimes happened she could almost feel a sensation coming from her sword, a feeling almost bordering on amusement, mixed with something more intense…..purpose.

Savage spends the night drinking and cursing.

While not spending as much time on deck as most of the others, Drago did make some attempts to learn some of their names. For the most part, the introductions went well. Until he met Chaldor, the Half-Elf of the crew. As soon as the Sorceror saw the carpenter, his vision flickered red momentarily. The Dhamphir's eyes must of flashed crimson as well, judging by the look on Chaldor's face.

Once again, his mother invaded his thoughts, "Oooo, a delicious snack is on board. How delightful. When was the last time you fed on Elvish blood my son, two or three years? You yearn to taste it once again, I can feel it." She then faded away laughing before he could retort.

Feeling the hilt of the dagger of Aliethia at his side gave him enough resolve to just walk away without uttering a word. Let the Half-Elf think what he wants, I'll not taste of his blood. He thought loudly in his mind, more out of spite for his mother than self re-assurance.

Drago made his way below decks quickly, and didn't re-appear until dinner.

It took him a moment to process all the information and his emotions, and he leaned on the restraints with his newfound companions, his tail helixing up the rope.

The brothers were more informative than Harakhty could've hoped for in a hundred years. While he was happy superficially to hear Naeem was still well, the repeated mentions of the stars' omens not being set in stone held his elation at bay. Naeem was a hunter. Hunters died from time to time. Still, even a shallow reassurance comforted him; he needed to hear his hopes affirmed by someone else.

Harakhty knew of Sarenrae and her following. The most forgiving of all the deities, her followers were someone of the most persistent when it came to leading others to redemption - beyond the point of practicality sometimes. Perhaps the situation between Rando and Jitty was one of those times, for as good-natured as Harakhty liked to think of himself, he would not have tolerated Jitty for so long. The captain was a better person than he thought though, and he felt ashamed of himself; though a punch probably should've been avoided, he rushed to judgment with unnecessary haste - much as his own people had with him.

"Battle? We're not ready for that. I'm ... not the most seasoned fighter, and from what you say, it sounds like we would be outnumbered if this Horace comes with his full strength - or even most of it. Perhaps we could avoid the conflict - take a different route back? Unless Horace means to take his hostilities to a different land, he may wait for Rando's return. That lookout of yours - I'm not sure of his kind, orange - could let us know if a ship was approaching in any case." Harakhty wished he had learned more of Horace the Red before leaving, but he was never sent to gather knowledge about him. Giving what little he could in return, Harakhty pulled a small bundle out of his sack he'd retrieved from his stash earlier. "You two have been so kind to me, I am afraid I cannot repay you. Please, share this mixture of raisins and nuts with me - it is the least I can do." He had some coins, but it was considered rude in their culture to give money as a token of friendship. The raisins were a delicacy to him - it was right up there with fish on the list of his favorite foods.

As they munched, he still felt the stings of guilt pulling at him, and released himself from the restraints. "I fear I may have been too harsh on my opinion of Rando when we first met then. He doesn't seem to be the sort of man I thought he was. Please, take the rest of this food. I must go ask for his forgiveness." He left the brothers in search of the captain.