Shadak quickly makes his way down the rope behind the two woman an almost feral grin on his toothy face.
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Shadak shakes his head slowly. "I also had strange dreams this night, about the time aboard the ship." He shrugs slightly as he paces over to the food to begin getting 'breakfast' ready. "I still do not remember what happened at dinner that night." The way he says it makes it obvious that this fact disturbs him.
Shadak lumbers into the makeshift camp and as everyone turns expectantly towards him he shrugs his massive shoulders and shakes his head. Aparently he's found nothing. He does pull out three snakes, quite dead, and tosses them on the ground in front of the fire. Dropping his bulk to the ground with a thump, he proceeds to skin them. Dinner!
Shadak listens to Carys, his mouth pulled into a frown that makes him look even uglier, if that were possible. "We should tell others. You go. I finish." He doesn't even wait before scooting back off into the shadows.
Seeing Carys' signal, Shadak makes his way slowly over towards her. It doesn't take long to see the object and as he does he stops, his eyes narrowing. He makes a brief motion with one hand, indicating that he will cover Carys as she goes to check it out, then pulls a wickedly shaped throwing weapon from his belt, readying to throw it. For Carys: Taking a careful line up to the body you soon get close enough to have a better look at it. It is indeed a monkey, a rather large one, and it is quite dead. Which of course would not be odd save that it has not been savaged the way one would expect of an ordinary preditor. Instead, it looks to have been completely drained of blood. And no, there is no trail, or trace of blood in the area.
Shadak gives a toothy version of what must be a grin for the half-orc and heads out into the woods hefting his enormous club easily. It's uncanny how graceful the hulking brute can be, and soon his own and Carys' sounds are lost amongst those of the night. He makes a straight line out through the jungle for a time, then turns and begins a long circuit of the site, pausing occasionally to gaze intently around him with squinty red eyes.
Shadak takes point for much of the trip, along with Sasha. Both of them disappearing for most of the time, coming back only as the rest of the party nears the cliff edge. "Follow cliff?" he asks as much as states. He doesn't seem to see many other options.
Shadak gives a grunt of thanks and begins taking items and organizing them into how they will be used. "Dwarf is right. We need to know how long we stay here. Makes difference in camp."
Shadak glances at Carys briefly as he works to mark out a location for the camp. "I have spent a good deal of time on my own before I joined the crew. Making camp is not hard. Only thing to decide is how long we stay. That can change camp."
Shadak shrugs to Carys, obviously at a loss at to why he was spared, then shakes his head at Abshail's suggestion. "The ship is against a cliff. Not easy for many people to get to, and not a good place for camp. I stay here, start making camp. You all bring back anything to help." He then turns and heads towards the jungle, presumably to gather supplies.
Shadak shakes his head, a bit exasperated at Ilarian's lack of sight. Pointing at the ship with one large finger he looks over at the half-elf. "Not rescue ship. Wreck. Maybe 2 hours walk."
As if in answer to her comment, though it's doubtful he heard it from his spot some twenty feet away, the half-orc raises a pointed finger towards a point along the shoreline to the northwest. "Ship!" he calls back to the others.
Not having any other gear to tend to, the half-orc starts to wander around the beach, peering down at the sand and even crouching down to get a better look. Standing up he shakes his head, "Don't look like we washed up," he rumbles in the first words anyone has heard him speak. "Looks like we were brought in boat. That's why stuff is dry." He begins peering across the horizon, perhaps looking for the Jenevere.
The half-orc refuses any attempts at assistance in getting his feet, but it is obvious, as much as he tries to hide it, that he is suffering the same effects as everyone else. Looking about with a confused expression he silently makes his way over to the pile of gear to retrieve a very large club which he hefts onto his back by a strap before taking a closer look around.
A constant, and somewhat unpleasant presence on board the Jenivere is the half-orc, Shadak. His twisted and tusked face seeming to be always at the edge of view as he goes about his duties, his enormous bulk used at every opportunity by captain Kovack. He strikes up no conversations, but watches everyone with an overt curiosity.
Shadak walks into the room and takes a quick look around before heading to a couch and dropping himself into it. "Thank'e kindly. Tell 'er to take 'er time. In the meantime... Any chance of a mug o' ale? I'm sure the wine's fine and all for a less stoic stomach, but it ain't fer me." Cora gives a smile and a nod before closing the door and heading off.
Shadak makes a bow to Cora before stepping through the doorway. He eyes the gnome curiously as he talks, also looking around, but says nothing. After all, Houshou pretty much said it all. Instead he starts to move in the direction that Cora had indicated.
The two arrive at the estate just a bit before what most people would consider dinner time. The sun is just starting to set and it's last rays are glancing across the gables and gargoyles of the roof and through the branches of the trees in the courtyard. It's a sight that might be beautiful to a pansy elf, but to Shadak, it's just another day on the surface. He ambles up to the door... Looks about... And knocks firmly.
Shadak rolls his eye and shakes his head as he turns, beckoning his companion to follow him. "Might as well 'ead up there." The trek through the city takes some time. After all they are going from the south side of the bad part of town, up the cliff to the good part of town. But Shadak passes the time by whistling a lively sea song and glaring from under a bushy eyebrow at anyone who gives him or his friend a dirty look.
Houshou stumbles out of an alley way next to the Inn. A ring of curses escapes his lips as he bounces up and down on one foot a couple times. He's had a thorough bath and cleaning. His hair appears to be braided in a celtic-knot style, and he's wearing new robes. "Son o' a Kobold!" He shouts as he pulls a caltrop from his foot and tossing it back into the ally. Taking a sip of his flask, he exhales and says, "Which way is da mutton?" Shadak gives his friend a cautioning look. "Carefull 'ow much of that you treat yourself too 'afore we get there. Wouldn't do to be showin up already sloshed." He points up to the north. "This way. Wasn't able to find out more about her aside from her bein the only one of her family left. May be that's why she needs some help."
Shadak does some asking around while during that day, trying to see what he can find out about this woman.
Unfortunately there isn't that much to figure out, and he's waiting outside the tavern far earlier than he had hoped.
Shadak didn't mean so much that they'd be served mutton as that they might get the money to buy some. But he'll let Shou think what he wants. "Aye. I 'ear there be a bath house around here somewheres. Meet me outside the tavern at the third hour past noon and we'll 'ead over to her place. Meantime I'm gonna ask about and see what I can find out about her. Don't like getting into any deals without a'knowing who it is I'm beholden to."
Waking up from last nights excursion in a stupor he sits up and takes a swig from his one family heirloom. Standing he rights himself and sways left and right as he walks down the street. Grumbling and mumbling to himself as he tries to remember where he was and where his friend was staying. Which is right about when Shadak come strolling down the same street in search of said stumbling and drunk dwarf. Catching sight of him, he veers to intercept, “hooking” him by the arm. “Eh there ‘shou. We got an invitation ta visit a “Lady” this evenin. Which mean you’ll wanna be cleanin up ‘afore we go. Sure’en she won’t have any real food ta eat if I know these human lords but would be disrespectful ta show up all grimy in any case.” He takes a good look at his friend and gives a shake of his head dispite the grin that comes to his face. “By the looks of it you’ll need the whole day to accomplish the task. But this could mean work, so I don’t want to take chances. Ya might think you can live on ale but a good side a mutton don’t hurt neither.”
Shadak Stormrider is a contradiction to most every dwarven stereotype. To start, he loves the water. He’s even a decent swimmer, which by itself would make him odd. His wild dark brown hair tied down by a red bandana and his equally wild beard tucked into his belt are widely recognized down at the docks, as is his persistence in wearing a fine suit of scale mail, something no other sailor in his right mind would do. His scimitar and shield are nearly always strapped to his back but by far the most distinctive features are the black patch over his left eye, and his newest acquisition, a metal hook where his left hand should be. Since his return from the outing out in the Mushfens that earned him that medal and lost him his ship, he’s been seen most often in the dockside taverns, drowning his sorrows in whatever the best ale those low brow establishments can offer. After all, he is still a dwarf. Shadak quirks his one good eye at the Halfling and furrows his ample eyebrows. “She wants ta ‘ave dinner?” he asks, incredulously. “Well I got no qualms against a free meal an’ I can’t say as I don’t need the work if it’s good…” He shrugs and tucks the note into his belt. “Aye, I’ll be there. Just tell her ta be sure ta ‘ave something decent to drink.”
Well here is the GM NPC. Since no one else made a sailor type, I made a dwarven sailor. Complete with eye-patch and a hook for a hand. :) This seems to be kicking off kinda slow, but maybe this will jumpstart things. |