To his distaste, Tranz finds that the ship's navigator seems to be less qualified than he is for the task. Still, Tranz attends to his duties with utterly ruthless efficiency, pausing only when the spirits that haunt him hinder his work.
It takes some time to work out off the harbour as you pass an motley assortment of craft including Quadiran Shebecks, Chelaxian Caravels and Taldane Carracks..theres even a somewhat tatty Osirian battlebarge and a huge Tian Junk proving that the world comes to Bloodcove to trade in flesh.
The cloth bundle the Captain handed to the crewman turns out to be a Sargavan flag.It flaps in the wind the silver of the field only seeming to emphasis the emblem of Cheliax in the upper quadrant reminding you of the colonies origins.
Generally the crew seem intimidated by Brugga's forward attitude and slink away from her when she challenges them.Eventually however Tranter throws her a light cotton vest..
"Wear that woman and stop flaunting yourself like those Mwangi savages"
Tranter is a large man..bigger even than Brugga, with a scar cutting across one cheek. He seems competent if a little to fond of using his fists on slacking crewmen.
Brugga looks at the vest in her hands. "Very well, big man. Big man's ship, big man's rules."
She puts on the vest, relieved that it isn't nearly as hot as her armour had been.
Gareth gets back to work, trying his best to stay out of Tranter's way and sight, not that it ever really works. Gareth does not like Tranter for good reason.
At Tranter's comment about Slugga 'flaunting herself like a Mwangi savage,' N'goka turns away, white teeth flashing as she smiles. That seems an unusual reaction from a 'savage,' but she has apparently found something amusing about his comment.
She turns to Redstripe, who is rocking his head back and forth, looking at the pony in the hold through one eye and then the other, and shushes him away, to instead take up camp in her favorite place for him, splayed out as if dead upon her backpack, belly up to the sun (and unintentionally serving as a guard for her possessions).
You finally hit the swell of the ocean proper.Theres a whinny from the hold as the pony stumbles in its slings.
Tariro.. I need a fortitude check from you DC15.
Vix lies in some shade then his head snaps up and he dives into a pile of crates on deck..Theres a short squeal and the fox emerges with a fat rat in his jaws..he trots over towards Redstripe and drops the rat at the raptors side before backing off.
Redstripes eye opens to watch the fox approach and it turns itself over and regards the gift through a single eye, it's head canted at an angle and low to the ground as it makes a strange purring cluck. It bites once at the rat, apparently more symbolically than anything else, and then leaves it for the fox to finish, if it wants.
N'goka has heard wild tales of magicians whose animal companions are uncannily intelligent, but she has never seen such a thing with her own eyes, and is amazed at the foxes actions, and how readily Redstripe seems to be willing to accept the small animal as part of his 'pack.' She had assumed that he must have been part of a pack before he was captured, but, until now, had never seen him demonstrate pack behavior towards anyone but herself.
Vix chews on the rat for a while then lies down close at hand.
Gareth continues to work as he watches the strange animals.
Tariro's stomach lurches as the unfamiliar motion of the waves becomes apparent. She tries desperately to fight down the nausea but suddenly finds herself looking down at the water as she gives it a gift of her lunch.
Those of you who are experienced sea travellers will note that the sea is relatively calm . The weather holds good till sunset and beyond into the night as the ship forges steadily southwards.
Tariro's stomach lurches as the unfamiliar motion of the waves becomes apparent. She tries desperately to fight down the nausea but suddenly finds herself looking down at the water as she gives it a gift of her lunch.
Poor girl...
Brugga quickly settles into a routine of working the lines, pausing occasionally to throw up over the side alongside Tariro.
Boy does it feel good to be out in the fresh air again...
Gareth mindlessly tugs at the metal collar digging into his neck, failing to relieve his discomfort.
Supper for those who want it is a lentil broth with a few chunks of very fatty pork floating in it.There's also ships biscuit and hard cheese.
After eating the ship settles down to night watches..and for most off you there is time to relax after the days exertions. The rest of the crew pretty much ignore you
While there were quarters to be had down below, Joao wanted to put off having to do so as long as possible. This day had been tiring, but educational, and if it got him where he wanted to go, he was not going to complain. When dinner was served, he sat with his back against one of the bulkheads on the deck of the ship, looking out at the darkened seas. The piece of pork he picked out of his broth and made quiet clucking noises towards the fox, holding it out as an offering.
From attempts at conversation before, he noticed that the Kellid woman and the Mwangi woman did not speak any language he knew, a fact that made him chuckle. One of his cousins always used to say, "Women never speak the same language, ever.. You only think you understand them." That it happened to be true in this case brought an amused smile to his lips. The halfling, he looked for next, finishing his broth last, lest he choke on the biscuit and cheese, wondering if her equilibrium was faring any better. The orc he only wondered about, suspecting that the crew "put him back" for the night.
After calling upon the blessings of the spirits to cleanse her soup of hostile energies, perhaps spiteful forces from an improperly butchered animal, N'goka eats most of her soup.
N'goka similarly picks the pork out of her soup and hands it to her companion, who, while not hungry after his large lunch, happily devours anything she tosses his way. With the setting of the sun, the halfling-sized lizard has taken to resting it's head on her leg, while she sits, watching her eat with rapt fascination.
She tucks her bread and cheese away, and after Redstripe moves his head back and forth for a few moments, first trying to inch closer to her sash, then getting in some bizarre staring contest with her, as if he could hypnotise her into handing the food over, gives up and sighs audibly before setting his head back down.
Gareth is chained back in the hold. The smell of the broth was tortuous. Luckily N'goka gave him that meat pie, since the sailors "forgot" his stale moldy bread again...
Vix lifts his head, tilts it quizically and pads softly towards Joao..he sniffs at the meat then nips it gently from between the mans fingers before retreating to eat at a safe distance.
Tariro by now has recovered somewhat even the smell off food fails to make her stomach lurch ..mainly because theres no more to bring up
Vix lifts his head, tilts it quizically and pads softly towards Joao..he sniffs at the meat then nips it gently from between the mans fingers before retreating to eat at a safe distance.
Tariro by now has recovered somewhat even the smell off food fails to make her stomach lurch ..mainly because theres no more to bring up
"Vix thank you, South Man," Brugga says in Varisian. "Vix eat better than rest of us on ship. Vix maybe get fat."
Tariro wipes her mouth off and stands from her shady spot on weak legs. "Dang will this house ever stop bucking and heaving". "I've spent many a night swaying from the treetops, but never anything like this".
She then makes a tour of the ship, stopping occasionally as the queasy feeling returns...but not as strong as before, before making her way to the hold to check on her Pony.
She then returns to her shady spot, feeling a little better about her decision. At least nobody is trying to hurt or capture her here...for now.
"Vix thank you, South Man," Brugga says in Varisian. "Vix eat better than rest of us on ship. Vix maybe get fat."His response was a slight smile and nod, the majority of his attention going to maintaining his weapons, checking to see if the direct salt air was having any immediate effect. Four daggers, a mace that looked like it was the bastard cousin of a club, and a worn crossbow were taken care of in the dim light from the ship while she was rocked by the waves under a night sky. When the halfling made her way around the ship, he watched her when she passed through his line of sight, evaluating the state of her health while he worked.
When he was finished maintaining his equipment, he replaced everything and rose, searching out a length of rope and starting to work on something. It continued until he was done, a process that did not take very long at all, casting about for a place to anchor what he had constructed. When he did manage to find a place, only then did he approach the halfling. "Got a hammock for you", he said neutrally, gesturing in the direction that he had set it up. One good thing about halflings was that they were light, so he did not have to anchor it like he would for another. "Probably won't help when you put feet on the deck, but for sleeping, you should be fine."
"I...I...I don't know what to say". "I have no gift to give you in return...but thank you". "I shall be in your debt". She then bows deeply to the man, and begins to find a place to rig the hammock so that it is in shade for much of the day.
The night passes peacefully..no Monsters arise from the deeps to threaten your progress.
Tariro's pony is somewhat disgruntled but a few soothing words a rub down and some feed make it calmer.
You drift of to sleep and awake at dawn.The sea is still calm but there is one thing that attracts your attention more than anything..a large fin is following in the ships wake...a VERY large fin.
N'goko is concerned. A shark, of any size, shouldn't be following a ship unless it scents food. She checks the boundaries of the ship for trailing ropes that might be dragging something that is attracting the shark, like a fish that has been snagged by a drag-line and is bleeding.
She talks to the spirits in her native tongue, asking for their advice as she searches, but they seem too scared to offer anything other than contradictory babbling.
In Chel-accented Common, which sounds incongrous from her throat, she looks to Joao, It should not be following us, unless it scents food. If there are no lines dragged hooked fish, something must be leaking from the hold... Something like blood...
She turns and heads down to the hold, to see if someone has bled out on the floor of the hull, and could be leaking the scent of blood into the waters, grunting for Redstripe to take up his traditional position upon her backpack, as she has learned not to leave her things unguarded around this crew.
You search..but find no sign of blood or anything that might be attracting this massive shark.After about half an hour the lookout at the mast head shouts down to the deck..
"Cap'n thar be whales ahead"
At almost the same inmstant the fin surges forward past the ship the great fish obviously intent on its prey..you get a proper indication of it size it must be 60 or 70 feet in length
Bad day to be a whale, N'goka thinks.
She mutters a prayer, in the common tongue, Let us give thanks that the beast has found something other than us to fill it's belly this day. Our thanks to the whales, who will soon know great sorrow in our stead...
Bad day to be a whale, N'goka thinks.
She mutters a prayer, in the common tongue, Let us give thanks that the beast has found something other than us to fill it's belly this day. Our thanks to the whales, who will soon know great sorrow in our stead...
Mmm... Tranz agrees, somewhat distracted from his drawing of the fin, and a much smaller drawing of Tranz next to it to provide scale.
Gareth is brought up from his "lodgings," and sees everyone standing around more alert than usual.
...Is something going on?
N'goka answers, A shark, as large as this ship, was following us. It has gone to attack a group of whales, so we are safe for now.
She points to the bread and cheese she squirreled away from her last meal and whispers, For later.
Gareth's eyes seem to water up a little
...You are too kind...
<"One would suspect your knowledge spans a fair amount">, he offered, speaking in Draconic.
Tranz glances up at the Varisian man, and then responds in Elven.
I have learnt many languages in my long time upon this world, art thou a fellow linguist Sir? Knowledge is the most precious thing to me in all the world... Whether it's garnered from my travels or from a book...
If no response is forthcoming from the Varisian, Tranz calmly repeats himself in Dwarven, Gnome, Sylvan and then with a sigh, in Taldane. He then continues, looking the man up and down carefully-
Tranz Strurgoth at your disposal. By the many weapons you wear, you must be a warrior of note no? Perhaps you would like to show me some martial forms so that I may depict them in my latest book?
The Gnome immediately pulls out some parchment, and brandishes an ornate looking quill, a beautiful red and gold feather.
After watching the strange banter between Joao and Tranz, Gareth continues with his work.
Absolutely nothing. I have been 'assisting' the Navigator... An uncouth and uneducated man... I imagine I shall make my introductions to the Half-Orc sometime soon.
Waiting for the crew to be occupied with other matters, N'goka brings the hoarded food from earlier to the half-orc, although she avoids exchanging pleasantries, as she has other things on her mind to examine in the hold, such as the strange stunted pale zebra that someone brought along with them, perhaps for a exhibit or some wealthy collector of freak animals.
While clearly not pleased at it's transport, the animal seems healthier than she would have expected, and shows no signs of recent captivity, such as sore spots from bindings or the usual scrapes and bits of loose fur one would expect from an animal that has struggled for it's freedom recently.
She does not wish to grow too attached to the strange beast, knowing that it is likely bound for some unpleasant fate, perhaps even a Qadiri banquet, as she has heard of the desert-men and their decadent feasts of river serpent and raptor eggs and oversized beetles and stranger things besides. Recognizing that under stress, it might have a greater need for fluids than normal, she does bring it some fresh water, which pours from her hands into a bucket as she calls the rain spirits down into the musty hold, despite their whispered complaints on the subject.
Returning to the deck of the ship, she makes an effort to locate the exact storage place(s) of the key or keys used to secure the half-orc within the hold. She suspects that at some point, she may find it useful to be able to get her hands on those keys, perhaps even in a hurry.
Redstripe has been trained to 'fetch' small colorful items, and she waits until later in the evening, to give him some specific pointers on the item in question, a key-ring, perhaps, that he might be required to 'fetch' to her during some distracting occurence...
N'goka spots the key easily its hung on a nail about 6 feet off the deck and quite close to Gareth's corner
Gareth gives N'goka a quick smile, not wanting to draw attention to her and quickly devours the food before anyone can catch him with it. Then he continues to his work, not wanting the crew to think him slacking, and abuse his situation more.
Swabs the deck...
(sigh)...why do I always miss the interesting stuff, like giant sharks...
Swabs the deck...
(sigh)...why do I always miss the interesting stuff, like giant sharks...
Gareth looks up to see a distinguished looking Gnome peering at him intently, sat cross-legged and with a beautiful red feather quill to a piece of parchment. You think he might be drawing a picture of you. Suddenly the quill flies towards Gareth, seemingly with no action from Tranz. With a sigh, the Gnome retrieves his quill.
Apologies friend. The spirits enjoy making my life harder. Tranz Strurgoth, pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Apologies friend. The spirits enjoy making my life harder. Tranz Strurgoth, pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Gareth looks down at his chains. ...I-I think I can relate to that...My Name is G-Gareth Marcavius. It is a p-pleasure to make acquaintance...er to make your aquaintance...
...Where you speaking a dif-diferent language to that umm, other fellow? I have never heard anything q-quite like it before...
Apologies friend. The spirits enjoy making my life harder. Tranz Strurgoth, pleasure to make your acquaintance.Gareth looks down at his chains. ...I-I think I can relate to that...My Name is G-Gareth Marcavius. It is a p-pleasure to make acquaintance...er to make your aquaintance...
...
Where you speaking a dif-diferent language to that umm, other fellow? I have never heard anything q-quite like it before...
The Gnome smiles reassuringly.
No need to stammer with me young one. I am a friend. I speak a variety of languages- perhaps you know a few of your own I could learn from you? We could trade! the excitable gentleman exclaims.
Gareth blushes and speaks carefully trying not to stutter...
...Sorry, not used to people t-...talking to me... Not in a friendly manner anyway... I picked up a little of the Orc language... But I cannot imagine you wanting to know how to speak that... From where I come from, learning another language is rare... Especially if your hometown refused to teach you anything...
Gareth lest slip an awkward smile.
...I would be willing to learn, If you would be willing to teach...Someone like me...