Chapter 1- Souls for Smugglers Shiv
For various reasons, you have all found yourselves aboard the ship known as the Jenivere, a ship that routinely travels between Magnimar in Varisia and the Cheliax colony, Sargava. The voyage is nearing its end, with First Mate Alton Devers sharing that you will arrive in Eleder, your destination port, in about four days.
As you have all spent some time aboard the Jenivere at this point, you should have at least passing familiarity with several prominent crew members and passengers making their way to Sargava.
This severe half-elven woman boarded in Port Peril, where she immediately got into a scrape with a crude sailor. She spends most of her time in her bunk, seeming to purposefully avoid fraternizing with the ship’s other passengers. She is a trim, athletic woman with short dark hair, tanned skin, and fierce blue eyes. She dresses in tightly fitted leather armor and favors dark clothing and tricorn hats. The few times you have seen her, you get the impression she spends most of the day drunk; the smell of alcohol is always present on her breath.
A Chelish man whose family has made the Magnimar to Eleder run for generations, Captain Kovack is pleasant enough with his passengers, but a strict disciplinarian when dealing with his crew.
The Jenivere’s first mate is friendly with both passengers and crew, but he sometimes seems to chafe under the strong discipline of Captain Kovack.
A sharply dressed gnome from Magnimar, Gelik spends much of his time writing in the ships’ common areas, and takes every opportunity to tell long-winded stories, boast of past journeys, or quip about anything in his field of view. Gelik is a spry, energetic gnome with blond hair and a neat goatee. He dresses like a noble at all times. With liberal use of prestidigitation, his fine clothes always seem freshly cleaned. Only the ink stains on his fingers break the illusion of a proper gnome nobleman. He has something of a cruel streak, and a tendency to mock others.
A bookish Varisian scholar who tends to keep to herself, Ieana is traveling to Sargava to explore the ancient ruins there. Rumors aboard the ship alternately suggest that she’s the Jenivere’s owner, a Chelish agent, or Captain Kovack’s secret lover. Ieana keeps mostly to herself, and grows more intent on her studies with each mile the ship travels closer to Eleder. A small and quiet woman, Ieana has shown no interest in socializing or making friends on the voyage.
A scruffy human of Tian heritage, Ishirou boarded at Bloodcove and waits to reach Sargava with a quiet eagerness. Aloof but not rude, he gives the impression of one who has had a hard life but find himself currently without direction. He appears much older than he is, with graying hair worn in a ponytail and a perpetual scruffy beard. His clothing and armor are well kept and clean, but obviously of low quality. Only his sword, a beautiful katana, has any real value. Ishirou is fiercely protective of it, as it is his only material link to his cultural heritage.
Jask is a prisoner loaded aboard in Corentyn. Captain Kovack sees to this taciturn human’s needs with curt courtesy, but insists he be left alone, sequestered in the ship’s brig. He is a middle-aged, plain-looking Garundi man with greying hair and watery eyes.
A taciturn man from Senghor, Ship’s Cook Terillo has served in that capacity aboard several ships, though apparently not on account of his culinary skills, which seem to be limited to watery soups.
This red-haired human boarded the Jenivere in Ilizmagorti. Since leaving Mediogalti Island, the woman’s somber demeanor has gradually faded, revealing a boisterous and optimistic personality. None have yet questioned her about her missing left pinky finger. She has tousled red hair and mischievous green eyes.
It is the morning after the previous night's festivities. The crew has moved on from the "slap heard round the galley" - most likely as they got so drunk, that remembering much of anything was beyond expectation. The weather is gloriously sunny. The Captain and First Mate are privately consulting with the navigator about their course, while the crew is busying themselves with the routine tasks. Though there are still a few grumblings among the crew regarding the current heading, a general calm has come over them since it is widely know that Capitan Kovack is finally meeting with the navigator. Most of the passengers of the ship are out on the deck, enjoying the sunshine as the anchored ship drifts lazily, pushed by the gentle waves.
Moraxes arrived above deck dressed in his usual attire looking around at the sights. By sights, of course, I mean that blue, blue landscape that he has seen over and over again since Magnimar.
"Almost there..." Moraxes said to himself. He's obviously commentating on their proximity to Eleder and how long its been since he left Magnimar. He also rubbed his eyes like he occassionally does to assuage his typical morning headaches and adjust to the bright, bright sun.
"Are you talking to yourself again? Oho, lookout boys. The ocean's taken another victim! Lock him up and throw away the key." Gelik is sitting on the deck, writing in his journal - his usual activity in the mornings. He looks at Meraxes with a sarcastic grin - almost as if daring him to retort.
"After last night, I expect that a considerable number of us might do the same. Grog and warm ale...." Dragolan somehow contrives to shudder delicately, an impressive sight considering his girth. He appears to be unaffected by the previous evening's festivities.
At Dragolan's words, Gelik turns his attention towards him. "Huzzah! My rotund gourmand is here. Please, do come over and share some stories of feasts you have experienced - of which I am sure there are many. Please, do take care, however, not to sit on me. I'm not sure I could could ever be located!" He indicates a seat next to him and looks at you with the same sarcastic smirk.
Petry left the common sleeping area with its' hammocks and bedrolls and made his way to the top deck of the ship. He had managed to not drink too much the previous night, but he had the touch of a headache anyway. After acquiring a cup of water and downing it, Petry went to the midship, but rather than taking his usual position on the starboard railing, he looked around for a certain redhead.
Having heard that Eleder was still four days away, Petry didn't feel like inventorying his heavy backpacks yet again. Four days is three too long on this ship. Petry thought to himself. He was ready to start making inroads on becoming either an explorer or merchant in Eleder.
The gnome's loud commentary drew Petry's attention, and he turned to where the group was forming on the deck. New...friends! said a voice in his mind excitedly. Not so fast. Petry admonished the childlike intelligence in the gemstone under his shirt. But Petry did wander over to join the others. "Is this how we pass the time?" the young man asked. "Telling stories? All I have is how unsafe it is to try and bargain with a dwarven miner who hasn't seen civilization in over six months." He kept the other stories, of Grandfather's masked goons repeatedly kidnapping him, in the back of his mind where they belonged.
"You know I would be as acidic as you, Gelik, if my eyes were on an even level with people's junk."
"That reminds me, I was told to remind you that you have about four days to find clothes other than your motley you call your outfit and grow a couple feet. It is a hefty fine in Eleder to look as short and hideous as you." Moraxes smiled. The two of them are among the passengers who have been on the Jenivere the longest and conversations like this are fairly typical.
Dragolan merely smiles at Gelik's jest and placidly folds his hands across his chest.
Brin appears on deck looking none the worse for wear. But then, having avoided much of the prior night's carousing, he is relatively well rested.
Moving to stand near Dragolan (and deliberately avoiding Gelik), he remarks, "I don't suppose there's a chance of you replacing Rambar as chef is there? I'm starved, but I don't think I can stomach any more of what he calls 'breakfast.'"
Aerys comes up from the belly of the ship and squints in the sunlight. She says, to no one in particular, "My Gods, the sun is bright today." She walks over the group gathered. This is one of the first times she has approached anyone other than crew. "Have any of you seen the captain? I'd like to speak with him about...well, regardless, have you seen him?"
"Didn't someone say he was meeting with the navigator? I think all of the grumbling from the crew may have caused him to rethink the ship's course."
"Brin is correct. Something about shortcuts or whatnot."
"Thank you. I will go look for him there." As she turns to leave, you catch the unmistakeable scent of alcohol.
Sasha strides on deck, looking beautiful and fully recovered from her illness the night previous. She looks around and sees Petry - she smiles, but doesn't approach. Instead, she moves to the bow of the ship and looks out across the water. Those who look can see a wide, almost manic smile on her face. After just a few moments, she turns back to the middle of the ship and moves towards the rigging. In a swift movement, she leaps onto the netting and climbs to the crow's nest. All of this happens within the span of a minute.
Petry didn't answer when the dark-haired woman went past them, but the trail of alcohol on the air was thick as it followed her. Petry was about to ask for a tale from Gelik or Dragolan when he saw Sasha. He smiled back, but the smile faded into puzzlement when the redhead first went to the opposite railing, then up the rigging from the center masts of the ship. Petry sighed, and asked the group, "Any tales about why women play hard to get?"
Petry didn't answer when the dark-haired woman went past them, but the trail of alcohol on the air was thick as it followed her. Petry was about to ask for a tale from Gelik or Dragolan when he saw Sasha. He smiled back, but the smile faded into puzzlement when the redhead first went to the opposite railing, then up the rigging from the center masts of the ship. Petry sighed, and asked the group, "Any tales about why women play hard to get?"
Watching Sasha agilely scale the mast, Brin whistles softly in appreciation of the woman's physical prowess.
Answering Petry, he mutters, "No tales here, but the man who knows the answer to that question is wiser than I."
"Ha. Petry, some say women are more like snakes then men. I'm inclined to agree. Remember last night when I said there are plenty of damsels in distress? If one princess wishes not to leave her tower when you rescue her...leave her be."
Allia had slept a bit longer than usual today, as last night had been rather exhausting for her, trying her best to keep the peace on the ship.
As she stepped out on the deck of the ship, she was once again dressed in finer - and slightly more revealing - clothes than normally, as it was in no way certain that the calm would last. If she could keep the sailors' mind on her body, at least they'd not be thinking about doing anything drastic.
She overheard the conversation some of the passenger's had about the captain, and approached them "Excuse me, but did you say the captain is in a meeting with the navigator?"
Ishirou, coming from the stern of the ship, walks towards the group. He is looking intently at Meraxes as if debating to say something or not. This is not the first time he has studied him over the long journey, but the two have never shared more than a few courtesies. But today, he strides forward. "We have not truly spoken, but I believe I noticed you when came on board - or rather, I noticed the one yelling behind you. You did board in Magnimar, did you not? If I may ask, who was it that was yelling after you?"
She overheard the conversation some of the passenger's had about the captain, and approached them "Excuse me, but did you say the captain is in a meeting with the navigator?"
Brin answers with a quick nod, careful to look Allia in the eyes, and not...elsewhere. "Yes, Miss, that is my understanding."
Allia smiles at him, silently amused as she notices how he has to make an effort not to look at her chest.
But partly she smiles because she thinks that the captain may have considered her words from the night before after all.
"Thank you Sir. I'm sure that will put the minds of the crew at ease again. You boarded the ship in Cheliax, didn't you? I don't think we ever had a chance to talk. I'm called Allia"
Rambar, the ship's "chef," coming up from the bowels of the ship and squinting in the sun, strides towards Gelik and Dragolan. "Don' think I don't hear what you lot say about me cookin'. Me mam taught me to cook. When you insult me, you insult me mam. I'll show you two what cookin' is. You jus' stay out of the kitchen tonight and leave it to me." Without waiting for a reply, he turns on his heels and strides away.
Allia smiles at him, silently amused as she notices how he has to make an effort not to look at her chest.
But partly she smiles because she thinks that the captain may have considered her words from the night before after all.
"Thank you Sir. I'm sure that will put the minds of the crew at ease again. You boarded the ship in Cheliax, didn't you? I don't think we ever had a chance to talk. I'm called Allia"
"Brin," the ranger replies, looking uncomfortable for some reason. "You're right, I boarded in Corentyn, but I'm originally from the Darkmoon Vale region of Andoran."
Brin pauses briefly, unsure how to continue the conversation. Lamely, he concludes, "It's nice out, isn't it? The weather, I mean. Sunny and warm. Nice day." He turns awkwardly and looks away from Allia, out over the horizon.
"Brin," the ranger replies, looking uncomfortable for some reason. "You're right, I boarded in Corentyn, but I'm originally from the Darkmoon Vale region of Andoran."
Brin pauses briefly, unsure how to continue the conversation. Lamely, he concludes, "It's nice out, isn't it? The weather, I mean. Sunny and warm. Nice day." He turns awkwardly and looks away from Allia, out over the horizon.
After just a moment consideration, Allia decided to toy with him a bit, she didn't get the chance to do that very often.
She placed a hand gently on his lower arm, near his wrist and said "Did I say something wrong?" Then suddenly she removed her hand and clasped it over her mouth and looked genuinely distraught. "Oh my, I did not mean to imply you were from Cheliax. How very, very stupid of me. I assure you Sir, I did mean no disrespect."
"We have not truly spoken, but I believe I noticed you when came on board - or rather, I noticed the one yelling behind you. You did board in Magnimar, did you not? If I may ask, who was it that was yelling after you?"
"You're are correct. Her name is Cercei... Forgive me but I cannot remember her last name at the moment. May I ask what this is about, good sir?"
"You're are correct. Her name is Cercei... Forgive me but I cannot remember her last name at the moment. May I ask what this is about, good sir?"
"It is as I assumed. She seemed to know you pretty well for you to not know her last name - which is Melantha. It is of little relevance. I...knew...her father in my youth." Then, a little too abruptly, he says, "It is just a strange coincidence. That is all." He turns on his heels and goes back towards the stern of the ship before you can respond.
Dragolan watches as the surly cook goes below, then turns to Gelik with a twinkle in his eye. "It is times such as these that I am grateful to my Mystery, for I can sense the presence of substances that might do me harm. After all, we have impugned his mother's honor--who knows what form his revenge may take? Another batch of his soup?" He settles back on his seat again. "Perhaps if we are all very fortunate, we shall be shipwrecked before dinner."
Rambar, the ship's "chef," coming up from the bowels of the ship and squinting in the sun, strides towards Gelik and Dragolan. "Don' think I don't hear what you lot say about me cookin'. Me mam taught me to cook. When you insult me, you insult me mam. I'll show you two what cookin' is. You jus' stay out of the kitchen tonight and leave it to me." Without waiting for a reply, he turns on his heels and strides away.
Petry is startled by the cook's outburst, but thinks the evidence is against the cook. There's not a noble house in Westcrown, let alone Corentyn, that would not throw him out, or feed him to the dogs, for the swill he usually serves. Petry thought ungraciously. He then caught the end of Dragolan's rebuttal, and laughed despite himself.
Gelik chokes on his water at Dragolan's joke. "You, sir, are a surprise. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my writing, and your stomach is blocking my light."
After just a moment consideration, Allia decided to toy with him a bit, she didn't get the chance to do that very often.
She placed a hand gently on his lower arm, near his wrist and said "Did I say something wrong?" Then suddenly she removed her hand and clasped it over her mouth and looked genuinely distraught. "Oh my, I did not mean to imply you were from Cheliax. How very, very stupid of me. I assure you Sir, I did mean no disrespect."
At the touch of the attractive woman's hand, Brin's face immediately transforms from its usual fair shade to a bright crimson.
Words begin falling hastily out of his mouth. "No, no, nothing's wrong. No disrespect taken. I really don't find you stupid at all. Quite...quite the opposite of stupid, in point of fact."
"Ummm...did someone say something about eating? Breakfast time is it? I'm really quite hungry." Brin moves quickly away from Allia, and stands near Dragolan, hoping to be rescued from his social discomfort.
At the touch of the attractive woman's hand, Brin's face immediately transforms from its usual fair shade to a bright crimson.
Words begin falling hastily out of his mouth. "No, no, nothing's wrong. No disrespect taken. I really don't find you stupid at all. Quite...quite the opposite of stupid, in point of fact."
"Ummm...did someone say something about eating? Breakfast time is it? I'm really quite hungry." Brin moves quickly away from Allia, and stands near Dragolan, hoping to be rescued from his social discomfort.
'Men... so easy to manipulate' she thought, trying to keep a grin of her face, which she didn't manage completely. Trying to make it look like a surprised smile over an unexpected compliment, just she said as he turned away "You... you mean, I'm not stupid?"
As he moved away quickly to talk to the others a few steps away, her expression changed again, losing the smile and she quickly turned towards the sea and leaned on the railing. She stood there slumped down, her head lowered, seemingly speaking to herself, but loud enough for the rest of you to hear "Oh, you stupid girl. You did it again. Why would they want to talk to you?"
Curious man... I better keep an eye on him.
Meraxes' stomach growled when he heard the mentioning of breakfast.
"Brin, my good man, that is a marvelous idea!"
"If you'll excuse me, m'lady. I need to finish swabbing the deck." A man, in manacles and holding a mop, looks at Allia. The passengers have only seen him a few times since coming aboard. Typically, he is allowed out of his cell a couple of times per week to mop the deck and stretch his legs - but it is usually before most are awake. Today, however, the one responsible had overslept, thanks to last night's carousing. He looks as if all hope, life and joy have left him.
Allia looked up in surprise. It was rare that anyone adressed her as "m'lady" especially someone of the crew, and who else would be swabbing the deck?
Her eyes fell on the prisoner they had taken aboard back in Corentyn.
She had barely seen him since and she still had no idea why he had been arrested. Somehow he intrigued her, despite the fact that he made her uncomfortable at the same time.
She perhaps wouldn't get another chance to exchange a few words with him.
"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry", she replied and took a step back. "I think noone here really knows what crime you commited, mind telling me?"
Meraxes eyes the singer/dancer and eavesdrops on their conversation. He is pretty curious about the nature of his crimes as well.
A look of anger immediately crosses his features and he grips the mop tightly - but it passes almost as quickly as it appeared as his passive, defeated look returns. "You won't believe this, but I am guilty of nothing more than speaking the truth. I am innocent of any crime. But the powerful have spoken, and I am in chains. So my innocence is of little comfort to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must finish these chores. I want to give no reason to the crew to not get a meal this evening." His eyes fall and he returns to mopping the deck.
She perhaps wouldn't get another chance to exchange a few words with him.
"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry", she replied and took a step back. "I think noone here really knows what crime you commited, mind telling me?"
"I was wondering the same thing. It seems a bit harsh to force you to work like this with those shackles on."
A look of anger immediately crosses his features and he grips the mop tightly - but it passes almost as quickly as it appeared as his passive, defeated look returns. "You won't believe this, but I am guilty of nothing more than speaking the truth. I am innocent of any crime. But the powerful have spoken, and I am in chains. So my innocence is of little comfort to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must finish these chores. I want to give no reason to the crew to not get a meal this evening." His eyes fall and he returns to mopping the deck.
"Oh. Well, yes, go ahead. I certainly don't mean to stir up any trouble."
This poor man, what if he truly is innocent of his crimes? Someone should speak to the Captain on his behalf.
Gelik chokes on his water at Dragolan's joke. "You, sir, are a surprise. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my writing, and your stomach is blocking my light."
Dragolan does not respond for a moment, as he was covertly watching Allia and Brin with some amusement. "Hm? Oh! My apologies, and I shall leave you to your writing." He gets up and walks over to the landward rail, straining to see any details of the distant shore. Soon...but not soon enough for me!
Looking up to the crow's nest, he calls out, "Mistress Sasha! What do you see from there?"
Curious man... I better keep an eye on him.
Meraxes' stomach growled when he heard the mentioning of breakfast.
"Brin, my good man, that is a marvelous idea!"
Brin smiles slightly at Meraxes. "Indeed, but I only wish our Dragolan here was doing the cooking instead of that other fellow."
"Now whats wrong with watery soups in the morning?! Breakfast of champions." Meraxes says sarcastically.
Much contemplation is had while Moraxes walks around deck looking out at the sea and the land mass.
Oh how trite! Every criminal presumes themself completely innocent...On the other hand he did have a sort of a bona fide tone... very interesting.
"I hope we eat soon. Its difficult to think on an empty stomach."
A look of anger immediately crosses his features and he grips the mop tightly - but it passes almost as quickly as it appeared as his passive, defeated look returns. "You won't believe this, but I am guilty of nothing more than speaking the truth. I am innocent of any crime. But the powerful have spoken, and I am in chains. So my innocence is of little comfort to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must finish these chores. I want to give no reason to the crew to not get a meal this evening." His eyes fall and he returns to mopping the deck.
Allia almost took a step back, when the anger flamed up in his face, but it was luckily gone as fast as it had come.
"Oh no, that is terrible. Being tossed in chains and being completely innocent. But why would they ship you out of the country, in a far away land?"She didn't really believe a word that he had said, but it's always better to be nice than confrontational, that was a lesson she had learned long ago. Maybe he would let something slip that could be useful, or interesting.
"I'm not being shipped 'out of' - I'm being shipped 'back to.' I fled when I found out I was being framed. My enemies have long memories."
If the bread is stale I do not have much hope for the fruit. Oats it is.
He makes a bowl of oats and then another. He gestures one of the bowls to Brin."Here ya go."
"I'm not being shipped 'out of' - I'm being shipped 'back to.' I fled when I found out I was being framed. My enemies have long memories."
The young girl nodded slowly "Oh, that is bad, they'll be angry with you for fleeing, won't they? What are they saying that you did?"
If the bread is stale I do not have much hope for the fruit. Oats it is.
He makes a bowl of oats and then another. He gestures one of the bowls to Brin."Here ya go."
Brin happily follows Meraxes, and digs into the oats with aplomb. "Many thanks."
"I can't wait for real food." Moraxes sais with a mouthful of oats.
"That's going to be the first thing I do when we get into port."
Alton, the first mate, comes out from the captain's quarters, rubbing the bridge of his nose, between his eyes. "I've been staring at those blasted charts for too long already today," he says, to no one in particular. Dropping his hands and opening his eyes, he sees Jask talking to Allia. "You there, prisoner, what in the Gods' names are you doing? You know you aren't supposed to be talking to anyone. Get moving." He steps towards Allia and protectively shields her from Jask. "I'm sorry m'lady. He knows better that." Alton has always been kind to Allia - treating her almost as a daughter. As Jask moves on, he pats her on the shoulder and heads below deck.