An incredible pain fired upwards from the bard’s ribs as he tried to sit himself up. The ship had gone down, he knew, but beyond that, he had missed most of it. He had blacked out from the crash landing.
Trying once more to rise, Damien cried out softly in anguish before letting himself back down. It felt as though someone had put a knife through his ribs, and was pricking his internal organs rather painfully. Letting his eyes check his body, he found that he was not impaled, just hurt badly.
He let his head roll to the side, and beside him, he saw both Teros and Vilyamar lying unconscious, unmoving. Elandor had a very dark shade of red to his face, and was sitting beside Scourge. A slow smile crossed Damien’s lips, regardless of his injury. The towering figure that was Scourge had been there with him, fighting beside him against the barbarians. He had saved his life more than once up there, and for that, he owed him majorly, he knew.
What took him as largest surprise was the presence of the six dark-skinned men. The bard could only assume that they were residents of the town or city attached to the harbor they had crashed down into, but he wasn’t certain. He didn’t even have the slightest idea as to where they could be. All he could recall with any amount of clarity was fighting with the tattooed shamans atop the cabin...
(OOC: Does Damien recognize who these people are (Not as individuals, but as a culture)? If they speak a language he is at all capable of speaking, he will attempt to communicate with them.)
Lethanon Penninsula, Northern Arnakian Coast
Saradin, Capital of Lethanon
It had been over a week since the crash. 8 days since the destruction of The Nausicaa, and with it, the water-going vessel, Arnakian’s Pride. Once the jewel of King Elethorn The Second, and his Northern Kingdom of Thollin, the grand windship now lay in ruins at the bottom of the Saradin Harbor. Twenty two of the twenty nine crewmen and passengers of The Nausicaa were either missing or dead. All of which were assumed dead. Not many bodies had been saved, for the Saradin Harbor is a fishing port, and thus, is infested with a variety of shark. The sapphire bowl that was nestled against the whitewashed city of Saradin boiled in bloody frenzy that terrible day. Of the terrible air pirates, nothing was known in these southern, coastal lands, and the dreaded, bone ship had not been seen since.
Seven, badly wounded people survived and were accounted for. The humans Teros, Damien, Captain Darrad, and a crewman of his; the elven blooded Vilyamar, the untrusted half orc Scourge, and the little kender, Elandor. Thankfully, no members of Arnakian’s Pride were killed, and all were rescued before the frenzy that perhaps, or perhaps not took the lives of the beautiful young woman, Marie, and several crewmen who may have survived otherwise.
Priests from both the Temple of Alquelynia, and Lavuria were summoned to the drab, stone building, standing atop a high crested hill, some distance from the rest of the city, that was the city infirmary; and, within two days, all seven survivors were fully healed, save shock and depression. Even a week of warm sun and seabreeze would perhaps, not be enough to fully cure them of these ailments, however.
Priests of Lavuria allowed them to quarter in a free wing of the sprawling, gold and ivory laced Temple of The Sun, and here they had constant access to food, comfortable, feathered beds, and hot bronze tubs of water. All coins, and gems had been lost, for they sank far too fast to be spared; and the only form of value the party possessed, was what remained in their bags. Those who still possessed their bags. Damien, Scourge, and Elandor had been able to retain most of their possessions, where Vilyamar was lucky to have been able to keep the haft of the dagger, given to him by Tharanduil in the Elven city of Celeval. Thus, the service they were given was purely from the gracious hearts of the priests and monks of Lavuria. The Church of Alquylenia does not preach given to he who has no earned, and thus, allowed the Church of Lavuria all rights of care, save the healing they granted.
Once healed fully, each and every one of the survivors was brought before Saradin Security, and in turn, gave a full account of their destination, their purpose, and what had taken place on ship. The city, they learned, was the capital of Lethanon, a rich mercantile peninsula nation in the Arnakian sea. Somehow…they had made it to the first of their two destinations. Saradin, as it was, had been Darrads first stop. The king, they never met, but heard much of. His name was Zerxes The Great, and he was young, bold, and a great warrior, very loved by his people. As the party soon learned, in the beginning of his reign, he took up arms against a savage tribe of Hill Giants, who threatened to literally devastate Lethanon. The king, fought beside his men, and stood alone, before the Giant hords, after all his gaurds were slain. This so impressed the Giant King, that he agreed to leave Lethanon forever. Zerxes The Great, is supposedly renowned around Noldaria.
Aside from the previously mentioned, the party was unable to learn much about the city of Saradin, OR it’s nation. For after only three days, Guards in shining, dark blue adamantine mail were assigned to the Temple, and they were not allowed to leave. As the captain of the Guard explained to them, it was feared that if they mingled with the people of the city, it would become known that they survived, and perhaps, the marauders would return for them. This was for their own protection. Indeed, the gaurds treated them well, and even played cards or other such games with willing members of the party.
On the fourth day of their stay, a memorial service was held in memory of the fallen crewmen and party members. It was a muggy morning, and a mist covered the cemetery, that sprawled north of the village. 22 small mounds were erected, and laced with white phantom flowers. Darrad had somehow saved Darek’s sword, and erected it atop his mound, which stood between Mahuo and Marie’s. It was a sad day, and one in which the party was forced to reflect just how real the danger they faced was. Twenty two lives had been lost, and three of them were those of their friends. The tragedy was unforeseen, and, as far as they knew, had nothing to do with their quest. This, in it’s own aspect, filled them with fear the more. Three were lost to marauders…What would they do against a god? Yet their was no giving up. The three had fought, not for a cause; but for life. Were they to fail their mission, that may be the fate of every single living being in Noldaria…..
On a lighter matter, there was another occupant of the Temple that week. A pretty little gnome with shining, grey blue eyes, a long ponytail of red tinged, black hair, and a cheerful laugh. Her name was Rinrin, and her companion was a big, white dog, who was supposed to have long hair, but, save his bushy tail, was shorthaired.
His name was Conjori. She went from a gleeful acquaintance, to an actual member in one night, when she “Overheard” a conversation the party was having concerning there quest, and demanded to know the full story. Against their pleas, she joined them, explaining her quest make a name for her people in the history of Noldaria. This was the perfect opportunity, and she was a cleric. She had faith that her Goddess, Inenhalla would protect her. The party would not mention the obvious protection Inenhall had laid on her previous follower, Mahuo.
On the fifth day, the party bid a fond fairwell to Darrad and his crewman. They had all become good friends, and the goodbye was bitter sweet, but happy in that they were all alive to bid one another fairwell. He had gotten a trip back north, where he would hopefully get another ship of his own. Or perhaps he would join the army. He wasn’t sure. The crewman’s name, by the way, was Goham. Before leaving, however. He informed them that he had booked them a trip by water vessel, to Ralnaria, and infact up the Siris river to Kubal, which is only a half days journey south of Quasal, their destination. It’s leaving 3 days later. Thus, time is spent counting down the days before they can leave, for free, and continue on their mission….with no money.
At last the morning arrives that they are to leave, and as planned, a crewman of Sea Chum arrives at the temple to retrieve them. They are washed, shaven, each given extra sets of clothing, which match those that they wear as best as possible(Basically perfectly..even you Damien..because you spent time customizing the clothes they gave you), and even given 14 days hardbread and jerky. Thanks to the Church of Inenhalla, you are refreshed, cleaned, shaven, fed, your weapons are all polished and sharpened, and your armor is fixed. The only ailments lingering over you, are perhaps any sorrow or guilt you carry...
The crewman; who is darkskined and dark haired like everyone else in these lands, has shoulder length curls, and a trimmed goatee. He introduces himself as Ahman, and leads you through the dockside streets of Saradin. The sun is not yet risen, but a misty, pink lingers over the calm water, and the smell of salt and fish laces the wet air. Ships are being untied, and set out, but no shops are open, and the streets are empty save fishermen and guards, who sip sluggishly at mugs, or lean against walls with crossed arms.
The ship he leads you to is small, and barnacle crusted. Her name plague is green with algae. As men toss ropes and set sails, the captain strolls down the plank and greets you. He is a burly man with a full beard and a gleam in his dark eyes. He reminds you of Derak…
He speaks in broken English and a heavy accent
“You be the people we take to Kubal?”
The party nods and he grins, ushering them onboard. It’s a typical seagoing vessel. As he leads them to their rooms, he explains
”Captain Darrad is good friend of mine. I owe him favor, and we go to fish off the Ralnarian Coast anyways. Good heron there. We take you to Kubal because I promise Darrad.”
He shows them their rooms, and they realize they face the same circumstances they did on The Nausicaa. Two small rooms, each with two bunkbeds (Totaling eight) Of course, the party was smaller now….
(And we set sail once again with Noldaria! I needed that break….from the inn and everything…Trust me. But I’m back in full force. I do not require books from you, but I want decent detail…No one sentencers. I want descriptions of character reactions and thoughts, but I don’t need you to always recap everything I have already explained…I appreciate awesome posts like that, but, we want the game to move, and have decent “here and now” detail. Try to post asap. I will set back up the week deadline, but I don’t think it will be a Monday…You all wanted to continue, so I expect the game to move. In this update, I do want a little recap...And how you respond to the Sea Chum and it’s captain…My next update, im bringing you all the way to Quasal..yes…im skipping along…Once in Quasal we settle in though, because you will have some options on what you want to do…you’ll see...when we get there..so post…and Scourge…if you want to give Elandor his outfit..post it..)
Rinrin yawned as she wandered about the church, Conjori by her side, admiring the different decorations on the walls. Rounding a corner, she heard the murmur of voices coming from one of the rooms of the travellers she had met a few days prior, the door slightly ajar. She looked over at Conjori.
"I wonder what they're talking about, don't you?" Moving a bit closer to the door she added, "I'll just listen a little bit...I could find out something really interesting!"
As the gnome placed her head next to the door, the big dog sat down, patiently waiting for her to finish. After a few minutes, Rinrin could no longer stop a giggle from escaping. Interesting was almost an understatement, these travellers...no, she corrected herself, these adventurers were just what she was looking for, although she hadn’t realized this before. Recognising her giggle from inside the room, the voices had stopped and, unable to contain her excitement, Rinrin rushed into the room laughing, followed shortly after by Conjori, ears perked up. She quickly bubbled out her story, telling them why she had travelled so far from her homelands and then insisting upon hearing the full story. Ultimately she joined up with them, although not entirely a decision made by the group itself.
Time passed quickly for Rinrin with so many new and different things to discover in a land outside of Gnomefeld and new companions to spend time with. Now it was time to leave. On a boat. The Sea Chum, she noted. Managing to suppress a giggle of excitement, she let herself be ushered on board, unnecessarily calling for Conjori to hurry up; the huge white dog was just as excited as his friend.
The captain explained his reason for taking the party, free of charge, while on the way to their rooms.
"Captain Darrad is good friend of mine. I owe him favor, and we go to fish off the Ralnarian Coast anyways. Good heron there. We take you to Kubal because I promise Darrad."
Rinrin smiled politely. The Captain seemed nice enough, if a bit uneducated. She wasn’t entirely sure who Durrad was, although she remembered the others mentioning the name at one point. He showed them their rooms: two small rooms, each with two bunkbeds.
Looking around the rooms, Rinrin looked up at the others uncertainly, as she said cheerfully, "Well, I've barely met you all, and I'm not picky. Just let me know where Conjori and I should go."
Conjori had wandered over to the rail, watching the seagulls, while they were shown around. After she had set her pack down in one of the rooms, Rinrin walked over to join him, running a hand over the regrettably short white fur of his back as they both stared out at the sea, excitedly waiting to be off.
((Yay!!! I get to join now!! I hope this is an adequate first post! ^-^
Rinrin and Conjori are basically just going to spend the voyage getting to know the other party members, sleeping/meditating, exploring the boat (if the captain allows it) and watching the water and other scenery with her dog.))
The large man opened his orange eyes, casting them upon the soft hued stone and wood structure which had housed him for the past few days. The Scourge of the Vile rubbed his temples and sat up with a great sigh, awakening once more from a dream which had followed him since his run in--turned enslavement by--that necromancer many years ago.
Coated in a shimmer of sweat, Scourge slowed his breathe and turned to his companion. Orion, the obsidian raven perched upon the back of a nearby chair, preened his feathers idly, accustomed to many nights like these. Scourge arose from the bed and sat cross legged on the floor before a single lit candle. A candle was much like a life, slow to light, and it grows into a steady flame of power and brightness, gusts of wind threatening to extinguish it prematurely much like obstacles in life. In in the end, even the candle which once shone with such vibrance dwindles down and dies.
Putting out the flame between forefinger and thumb of a large blackened hand calloused from years of hard work, Scourge fell into concentration for a communement with Erenall.
Just the day prior a gnome had integrated herself within the party, and along with her came some sort of canine beas which Scourge couldn't help grin and run his tongue over his large incisors when thinking about it.
Thinking about the diminuative lass Conjori and her delectable little companion made Scourge remember the cloak he had managed to salvage from the falling Naussica. Lifting himself up and not even bothering to cover himself as usual, donned only in his repaired Clerical Vestiments, Scourge approached and quietly knocked on Elandor's door. When the little one answered, he silently handed the Kender the cloak turned and walked away, his long hair braided down his back, the creature obviously of at least partial orcish heritage.
When the morning arrived to board the Sea Chum Scourge prayed to the Lord almighty, he who reigned over life and death, and closed his spellbook as he followed the dark skinned man Ahman to the seafaring vessel.
The thought of boarding another ship wasn't the most gratifying weight upon the theurge's mind this morning, but at least thing time there wasn't a huge drop between him and the water below should they be befallen upon once more.
Sitting in his room quietly he placed his backpack upon his bed and took a stance at the prow of the ship, his features once again covered beneath cowl and cap.
It's going to be awhile to Kubal. Erenall, equalizer of all things, guide me to continue your mission this day."
The past few days in the strange port had immersed Damien in a culture he was unfamiliar with. But, despite this, he had taken it as a chance to grow, to expand his repertoire of tales and songs. It seemed that many of the natives of the area were eager to hear his story of what exactly went on aboard the windship, and as soon as he brought Thrundier into the story (Whose name he had only heard distantly when he bellowed it to the others), he could see the listeners cringe up in fear. Truthfully, Damien doubted he had the nerve to fight the gigantic chieftan, but he left this out of his reiterations. Speaking of him in the temple would likely not be the wisest idea.
However, the memorial service was hard on the man. He had seen enough people that he held close to him die in his lifetime, and seeing Mahou’s headless body was more than he could handle. It only did to add one more name to the list, and was something he would rather not have to dwell upon later. Slowly making his way to the back of the crowd, the man slipped free and darted off into the shadows. Besides, it did little to bolster the confidence that the others had tried to instill in him about their to-be confrontation with a dark lord. This was a man who had butchered two of their members! Two, who had each been elected by Tharanduil to confront and destroy the dark lord reborn. What hope was there to be had when dealing with this god?
It was here, too, that the bard came across a small creature that called itself Rinrin. A gnome female, she was also accompanied by a great white dog, much larger than herself (I assume?). The size ratio was about that of a human to a horse, and he had heard of people employing canines as mounts, so thus, it was the assumption that he made. She had rushed in while he was speaking to some of the other group members of matters concerning their mission, demanding to know the full story of things. It was not he that reiterated it to her, but simply observed the small one. She seemed to energetic, full of energy. Perhaps she would be the one to bring light to the clouds of darkness that seemed to haunt the fellowship. She was a priest of Inenhalla, but he figured it would be for the better if she were uninformed of what had happened to Mahou. Apparently, the others thought likewise.
The day came where Damien was to bid farewell to Captain Darrad. He had become a friend of Damein, and the poet would miss him, though he didn’t let it show. He thought it better if he kept goodbyes as simple as possible. Thanking the captain for the transport, Damien also gave him a few coins that he had earned as a bit of pocket money for the man, who was uncertain as to what his future now held in store. As it would happen, Darrad had booked them further transportation that would land them even closer to where they were to go.
Three days passed, and it was time to move on. Ready to go, with new clothes that the performed had tailored to his liking, and with two weeks worth of rations for once they got there, Damien followed a crewman of the Sea Chum to the docks, where he first lay eyes upon the ship they were to be taking. A typical ship, it was covered in algae and barnacles, and was small in size. He also had the looming feeling that he would have to share rooms with somebody again. It didn’t matter to him, as long as it wasn’t with Vilyamar. Truthfully, Damien was unsure as to how much of the pompous half-breed he could stand before being driven to lunacy.
The captain of the ship seemed to resemble Derak, though he was dark-skinned like everyone else in the region that he had seen. His language was also more broken than the dead fighter’s. Not letting this thought get to him, Damien listened to what the man had to say, and moved aboard when instructed. Carrying his gear to the cabins, the bard found his hunch satiated with the sight of numerous bunkbeds in two small rooms.
Entering into one of the cabins where he found Scourge also sited, Damien reluctantly turned to occupy the other room. He wished to spend more time with the unusual man, whom he had taken a liking to after their encounters on the windship, but reasoned that if Scourge were here, then so would be Elandor. Personally, he had nothing against the kender, but did not wish to spend the voyage looking for his belongings.
Tossing his knapsack onto a bed, the bard turned about and exited the small room, heading out onto the deck. He could see the crewmembers working, as well as the captain, and the other party members. Damien could not help but pay respect to the man, for he had seen what it took to guide a ship. Though the one he had just been on was made to fly, it was probably similar in many ways.
Not speaking to anybody unless spoken to first, the bard made his way to one of the rails, and stood silent, watching the sea.
The last thing he remembered was crashing against the cabin wall once more, pain flaring from many wounds and darkness as consciousness fled from the half-elf’s broken body.
He awoke in a bed with light streaming through the window. He had nothing but sheets about him and a frantic twisting of his head brought his robes, cleaned and folded neatly with his pack on top, to his sight. He brought up his right hand and brushed back some of the blonde hair that had flipped into his face and moved it back behind his ear. Rising, he gently stepped onto the floor and checked over his body. No wounds or bruises seemed present, but there was a faint scar across his stomach. His fingers traced a line along it as he went through the memories of the day on the airship, of the fated ends of the satyr and warrior and of his own near death at the hands of that monster.
The sun was fairly high in the sky and once the half-elf had donned the forest green robes and sash he opened his pack. Not much remained of what was once there. But in the front pocket a heavy item could be felt. Vilyamar had felt a lot of apprehension since he awoke, knowing what he did about the man who had nearly killed him. Reaching into the pouch, he felt cold metal with his fingertips and slowly grasped the odd shaped object. He paused, not knowing whether or not he really wanted to see the object now that he knew it was still in his possession. After what seemed like forever, he drew his hand out of the bag with the object still in his grasp and eyed the Hilt of Cielanon, the legendary dagger that had yet to gain a blade. The monk knew little about the legends surrounding this dagger. Perhaps the bard knew more depth into the legends that they had been told in what seemed like another lifetime.
Vilyamar replaced the hilt in his sash and said a small prayer to Erenall for keeping it safe. Although he still had no idea where he was, or what the terms or conditions of his stay were, the need for refreshment remained. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he began his meditation.
It was some time later that he finally ventured to the door. He suspected that his things would be all right, but he cautiously put his hand to the door and began to open it slowly. The door however, swung open quite suddenly, surprising the monk enough to leap back and assume a fighting stance. He was breathing quite fast and his heart was racing from the shock and now he stood facing a human in white robes carrying a silver tray with a meal on it. Much of the drink had spilled and a few buns rolled away from the feet of the man, but Vilyamar relaxed immediately once he saw that he was in no immediate danger. The two guards that had been posted and turned and reached for their weapons but relaxed as well once they saw that it was only the half-elf.
They seem to recognize me well here, Vil thought. He never even remembered hitting the water or ground and suspected he must have been quite injured in the descent.
The robed man turned out to be a priest of Lavuria, an attendant who been among the group that had healed them in the city infirmary and brought them here. It was the third day since they had been healed and he now knew that they had landed in the port of Saradin, their first destination. Marie’s body was never found and none knew of her present condition. Most presumed her dead. Captain Darrad and his sole remaining crewman, Goham, remained for the funeral ceremonies that were conducted for the fallen members of the crew and the party. Somehow, Darrad had saved Jilly, Derak’s sword, and erected it atop his burial mound. The morning seemed appropriate for the ceremony and once it was done, it was a very somber walk back to their place of rest.
Vilyamar tried to seek out Scourge during their stay, but the theurge always seemed to be busy, either with his own studies or with Elandor, the kender. The only other one who knew the truth about the attack was presumed dead. The monk suspected heavily, in fact, that the attack was not a random raid. The man who had slaughtered their companions was one who they would see again. Most likely it would to be in the battles for the light of Cielanon and possibly in the final battle.
On the fifth day, when the heroes had been laid to rest and the companion’s settled in their emotions, the time came to part both with the good captain and with the city of Saradin. It was a bitter-sweet parting for the half-elf. They had all grown to be good friends in a very short time, their shared experience creating a huge bond between the survivors. But at least, indeed, they were all still alive.
Goham had offered them all the opportunity to travel to their original destination. It seems that a friendly captain of a water-going vessel had owed a favour to Darrad and now was offering the party, including the newest members, Rinji and Conjori, travel for free. They couldn’t pass up the chance since all forms of money or gems had disappeared to the bottom of the bay with the crash. The monks supposed they would be able to find a mage that was willing to cast some breathing enchantments on them, but the search would be hard and most likely fruitless.
They all had gathered what little items remained and walked to the port after bidding farewell to the priests and clerics of the temples. Vilyamar noticed that Damien, the human bard and now one of the only two humans remaining, was avoiding him and whenever their eyes met or the monk caught him looking, he would turn away quickly or wrinkle his eyes in a squint of what seemed like disgust.
I have had looks of hatred and indifference and wonder, but not yet disgust. He thought after a while of standing for it. Vil decided it was best just to ignore it as if it did not happen. He was quite good at ignoring things.
The party found their boat and introduced themselves to the captain. The man spoke broken common and held on to a heavy accent. The words seemed boorish compared to the flowing tongue of the elves and disjointed compared to the way the inlanders spoke. They were shown cabins and immediately they set out choosing companions for the trip. Vilyamar wished to speak with Scourge and Teros about the events that occurred inside the cabin on the airship. Damien moved into the room beside Scourge, and so Vilyamar decided to spare some tensions and dropped his light bag on a bunk in the other room that was presently occupied by Scourge alone.
Before the half-elf left to survey their transportation to Kubal (it is best to know one’s environment at all times), he spoke silently to Scourge.
“We must talk later…there is something you must know about who we will come against…”
Scourge looked up from his bunk on his way to the prow of the ship, the half-elf passing him to unpack his lightened load upon the other bunk. With mention of needing to speak Scourge nodded his head slowly, though said nothing, as Orion was currently already above deck taking his place upon the 'crows' nest. With that he slowly moved towards the prow motioning Vilyamar to follow should he wish.
Yes, Elandor still was a part of this adventure. Though lately it had brought him a different kind of sensation than he had imagined. Fear was something kender could handle, but grief was of another level. Tears flowed openly on the day of the funeral and fell down to his heart, where they lingered and nursed his sadness so it lived on, long after the rest of the party had set their minds on their journey again. Somehow the glum and foreign harbor city didn’t make him feel any better.
In the end curiosity overwhelmed his sadness with the introduction of the gnome. Rinrin and her companion made a pair to Elandor’s heart. As soon as she opened her mouth to an endless stream of words he knew they had a new member in their group, if they wanted or not. He knew he wanted though. The way this one acted reminded him of fellow kender; nosy, a fast talker and full of life. It reminded him of how he had been before this adventure started. As the others shared their quest with Rinrin, a single tear welled from the kender’s eyes. It drained all the sorrow from Elandor’s mind and body and as it hit the ground it was like a bubble of soap exploded, releasing renewed positive energy. A big grin and twinkling eyes ruined any subtlety of this major mood-swing. The kender in him had returned.
A reborn man Elandor made sure to enjoy every minute of their stay in these strange lands. He stayed up late to walk the harbor and wonder about the depths of the waters. His thoughts often strayed to his fallen companions and he pulled his jacket close to ban the chill from his skin. Still, he was able to face the past and be thankful for the time he had had with these people. Their lives had not been given in vain. Everybody had learned from what had happened. They may have been chosen, that didn’t mean they were invincible. He lifted his gaze to the stars and adjusted his glasses. Their comrades were up there, he knew it, still fighting for the good cause. In their own way. Nobody could replace them, but in a way their places could be filled up by individuals willing to take up arms against the dark god. Not all was lost.
He returned to his room and started to get ready for bed when a soft but firm knock on the door interrupted him. In the doorway stood Scourge, unmasked and in full orc-ish glory. Elandor’s face brightened. He realized how special this moment was and did not want to mess it up by hurting the big one’s feelings. Before he knew it a cloak was pushed in his hands that made the kender’s mouth drop. He fumbled for words but when the sound managed to get out his windpipe Scourge was already walking away. Elandor rushed after him and embraced one of the moving legs tightly for a second. Upon letting go he softly added: “Thank you, Scourge. I really appreciate this.”
Then he walked back to his room, talking to himself how this was one of the greatest things to ever happen to him, along with him being the bearer of the gem that paid for the trip on the airship.
The next morning Elandor paced the wooden bridge that lead them aboard the Sea Chum wearing a beautiful cloak that fluttered around him on the wet breeze. He prodded Damien.
“You know, this reminds me of this story my nephew told me. He was an adventurer too. He didn’t go as far over the world as we did, but he truly was an amazing lad.”
He looked up to see the bard’s face and continued.
“One day he boarded this ship called the 5 Ducks. The captain was a lunatic, and had baptized the vessel such because 5 was his lucky number. The duck part was added because he had never heard of a duck drowning. He believed that a ship with that name would never sink. He was very wrong as you will see.”
“The 5 Ducks sailed over an enormous lake that would bring them to another harbor where my nephew had some business. Like I said, the captain was insane and pursued this dream. He wanted to have a ship that could go under water. One night a bright light erupted from the water of the lake, like a glowing ball of spiritual energy. The captain and his crew all gathered upon the deck to see what this strange phenomena was. As the ship approached the light a gentle voice came gliding over the water, as if the ball of light was talking to them. My nephew soon realized that the voice came not to their ears, but was implanted in their minds.
Captain of the 5 Ducks, I am Iundill, patroness of this lake. You have sailed these waters in peace, never harmed its inhabitants or polluted its depths. I shall reward you for that.
My nephew saw how the captain nodded his head with the eagerness of a young pup as the voice continued.
I shall grand you your deepest wish. Your ship shall sail this lake underwater as you grace my realm with a visit. I will spray your vessel with a magical powder that will enchant you so you can breath and sail under the surface.
A dusty cloud of orange powder snowed down on the ship. The captain and his crew danced in it like kids under a water hose. My nephew dusted the powder of his cloths and gathered them in a leather sack. He seemed to be the only one not trusting this voice.
In order to enter my realm I need you all to close your eyes and count to 30. When you open your eyes, you’ll have entered my domain.
As if hypnotized the captain and his crew did as were told. My nephew was the only one to see an the ball of light go up high into the air, as an enormous mouth with vicious teeth rose from the lake. He tried to warn the captain but the lunar just kept counting and shrugged my nephew away. Grabbing his belongings and stuffing them in a wooden barrel my nephew jumped overboard to save himself. The last thing he saw was the mouth closing over the ship and two gigantic hollow eyes disappear under the surface, followed by the ball of light.
Years later he told this story to me and handed me this sack of dust. The dust he had gathered. He had no need for it any more, but I cherish it and its story. I think it’s neat.”
Elandor opened a small sack on his belt and took out a handful of orange powder. With a big grin he showed Damien and anyone else who had been listening. After putting it back in the sack he sighed and headed for their chambers.
August 28th-September 1st/Friday-Monday
Lethanon Reef, Northern Arnakian Coast
The first half of their week aboard the Sea Chum passed smoothly for the party. Despite the notorious heat of the Arnakian coast, days were comfortable. The sky was clear and, and the air was fresh. A constant breeze drifted over the deck, carrying with it a refreshing mist. A great coral reef expanded west from Lethanon, and the water was a shimmering teal. Fish of every color could be seen, darting in what appeared to be clouds of gems beneath the waves. Dolphins were spotted several times and infact, in one instance, approached the ship. The crew showed the party how to toss fish, usually used as bait, to them. No member of the crew had ever seen animals such any of these water creatures, and the experience was a beautiful respite from the tiring, so far horrifying journey they were on.
Because they were sailing across a reef, land was never out of site. Islands constantly dotted the horizon, emerald in a world of blue and teal. Thus, the landgoing party was graced with a sense of security. They weren’t miles from land, drifting over a bottomless sea of water.
Sunsets were beautiful, and not a sight one would wish to miss. The sky seemed set ablaze with a golden fire, and the mist that hung over the water seemed to shimmer with greens, purples and reds. The water itself danced and shimmered like liquid fire. It was a time of peace in nature. The water would lap gently against the ship, and even the normally constant noise of the sea birds would calm. Slowly the sun would settle behind the distant waves, and a lavender would drift across the sky, before darkening to the sapphire of night. The night stars were like shattered diamonds, that seemed to swirl across the sky, and shone brighter than on land, and were reflected brilliantly on the shimmering, peaceful water. It was as if the ship had broken free of gravity, and were sailing amidst the stars themselves.
The crew spent the days fishing with rods. It was too early in the journey to fish for keeps. All fish would spoil, but the sport in itself was a good way to pass the time. Should any members wish to fish, the crew will teach them. (You can wing whatever you catch, as long as it isn’t outrageous, or I can post it…) Barrels of water were all the crew provided, in terms of nutrients. The party had their own food. Any crew members are willing to talk about anything, from past fishing experiences, to the surrounding islands as they know them. You simply need to ask. This post expands 3 days time, and is used simply as a setting. I hope you will use this opportunity to converse, and develop relationships and characters.
The ship had left; the departure was not quite as exciting as Rinrin had imagined it would be, but enjoyable nonetheless. After a while of staring out at the sea, the gnome realized that she still had not claimed a bed for herself, and promptly scampered over to the cabins, Conjori close at her heels.
Glancing into the first room, she saw that the big one...Scourge, she remembered, had left his things there. The man scared Rinrin a bit, he was quite unlike anyone she had ever seen before, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to spend the trip bunked in the same room. One of the others that had also chosen this room, a monk by the looks of it, hadn't even so much as acknowledged Rinrin's existence. Shaking her head, Rinrin moved over to the second room, where she had seen the bard go earlier.
She stepped in and set her bag down upon one of the beds, which was promptly claimed as a wonderful resting spot by Conjori. The gnome laughed softly to herself, shaking her head at her companion's antics.
"You take a nap, then. I'm going to go look around."
Whistling to herself, the gnome wandered back out onto the deck and looked around. She spotted Damien over by the rail and walked over, calling out a cheerful hello.
"Just thought I'd let you know that Conjori and I are bunking in your room. Hope you don’t mind…the big guy, Scourge, scares me a bit, and I don’t think the monk really likes me..."
A slight frown crossed her face for a moment, quickly turning into a smile and a laugh as a seagull swooped down and caught a fish in its beak. (maybe Damien talks back, maybe not) She quieted herself down to a giggle and let her eyes drift around the ship.
"Anyways, I think I'm going to go learn how to fish! See you!"
The gnome wandered cheerily over to where the crew sat readying their fishing rods. She'd never actually gone fishing herself, although she had seen it done.
"Hey, can you teach me how to fish? Please?" she asked hopefully. It would certainly be a fun way to pass the time, she thought.
((While she's learning from the crew how to fish, she'll ask about their various adventures at sea and such, curious about basically everything that's new and foreign to her with regards to fishing and sailing (not anything about the surrounding land, she's a bit caught up with the sea at the moment). Conjori's sleeping on her bed back in the cabin.))
Vilyamar saw Scourge’s motions and nodded, implying that he would soon follow. Tossing down his things the monk moved out the door and nearly knocked over the newest member of the group, Rinrin. The diminutive gnome did not know what she was getting into when she had burst into that conversation and demanded explanation. Vilyamar simply thought that here was another who would just get killed along the way. Personally he knew that a balance must be maintained but he would rather not see any lives wasted.
Following a little ways behind, Vilyamar stepped around Rinrin and kept pace with the large one. Scourge seemed to settle himself on the prow with his familiar keeping watch for others. No crewmen seemed to be around that would care, but still the monk spoke in tones just loud enough to be heard over the background noise.
“None of the others know this for the ones who were preset have all since perished. I would not be the best, though, to present the rest of the group with this information. The terms we all sit on are not all positive. Thrundier is no god, but a man in possession of an item of godly strength. He is the one that was spoken of by the ancient ones. He boasted loudly before attempting to slay me. He said he would claim the stone…and by the power of his being I do not believe he meant the gem that kept the windship aloft.”
Vilyamar looked away upon finishing this. They had hurt him, and they had slain his men (though the monk had a feeling that it was more the former that would cause Thrundier’s return) and they been made known to him. It was more than a fear or feeling that said that they would meet him again. And the more everyone knew about him, the better they would be to face him.
“Let the others know if you wish and at your own pace. You and Teros are the only ones I trust with my life,” he said.
The story that Elandor so enthusiastically recited to the bard was...interesting...to say the least, although unbelievable. He had never before heard of a gigantic ball of light growing sharp teeth and snapping up an entire ship in one big bite. And he had heard a lot of tales in the past. But... Perhaps the kender was correct. After all, many stories he had learned from people had proved to be true, no matter how absurd they might have been.
When Elandor showed Damien the orange dust from a small bag, he couldn’t help but look at it closer. Perhaps it is some sort of bait? he wondered to himself, not bothering to get the small fellow excited by it. Kenders could cause enough havoc when in a generally calm state.
“Very interesting story indeed, Elandor. Tragic, too, but I cannot help but wonder. How old are you, anyway? To have a nephew old enough to work on a boat such as the one you told in your tale, I would assume you are at least thirty?”
After receiving his answer from Elandor, Damien strode off to be by himself, where he was again disturbed from thought, this time by Rinrin.
“Yes?” He asked the gnome in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Just thought I’d let you know that Conjori and I are bunking in your room. Hope you don’t mind...the big guy, Scourge, scares me a bit, and I don’t think the monk really likes me...” She told him.
He paused for a moment, processing this. “I see,” He muttered, looking back to the sea for just a moment, then turning his grey eyes back upon the small woman. “Scourge...is nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn’t hurt you. Vilyamar, though, I doubt likes anybody, and I don’t think many like him, either. His arrogance upsets a lot of people...myself especially.”
The small woman seemed to have many traits that related to those of Elandor, though he didn’t think she was as prone to lifting valuables from people’s pockets...Elandor! He had been prodded by him! Damien quickly began to dip his slender fingers into all of his pockets and storage areas, making certain that everything was there. The kender had a good heart, but a rather frustrating habit of winding up with things that did not belong to him. Satisfied that he still retained all of his possessions, Damien watched as Rinrin waved to him before wandering over to some of the crew members who were carrying fishing poles.
Might be a useful thing to know, if I ever get stranded somewhere.
With a flourish of his cloak that had become all-too habitual, Damien followed Rinrin over to the fishermen. “I, too, would like to learn how to catch fish. If you wish, I can give you a tale that you won’t soon forget as payment for your tuition.”
Taking a place beside Rinrin, Damien accepted one of the fishing poles from a crewman, and awaited his lesson.
(OOC: If the crew members wish for repayment for their lesson, Damien will tell a fairly dramatic tale to them.)
As Vilyamar and Scourge sat at the stern of the ship, deep in convo, Damien and Rinrin were busy being taught the ways of fishing, by a couple of the crewmembers.
Hareef, a tall man with a short crop of black curly hair, and a scruffy, unshaven chin; and Zohan, a slightly shorter, bearded man with a balding head and a twinkle in his eyes were the two who gave them their lesson.
In response to Damien's question, Hareef shrugged, and placed a hand on the bards shoulder, guiding him and Rinrin to a large barrel.
"We will teach for no price. But you may give us a tale if you wish."
His voice was heavily accented. Prying the disc like lid to the barrel off, he stood grinning as the potent, sickening smell of dead fish engulfed Damien and Rinrin. Both nearly gagged. Conjori sniffed hungrily at the barrel. Zohan held up two nearly foot long, steal hooks. Taking one hook, Hareef reached into the barrel, and pulled forth a footlong, obviously dead fish.
"Herrin. Marlin love em. And that be what we fishin today."
He grinned and added
"Watch carefully. You be doing your own."
Taking the fish in the flat of his hand, he ran the hook across it's stomach, opening it.
"This will help the smell."
Taking the hook, and with rather brutal force, he forced it through the fishes side, nearly at the base of its tail. Pushing it out the other side, he looped it again, this time right behind the gill.
"No way this coming off."
Turning and strolling back to the rail, he introduced them to one of several, wheel like pullies. Thin, white rope hung from the wheel, and a handle connected to the pully. Zohan turned the handle releasing severl yards of rope. Taking it's end, Hareef, showed them a strange, steel hoop, and how it connected to the hook.
"Connect the bait and throw it over. Turn the wheel until the rope turns yellow..That means it's deep enough..."
A sudden thought hit Hareef, and he looked at RInrin. A grimace crossed his face.
"Um..I just realized...Please forgive me miss, but I think your to...petite. Marlin put up a fight for a full grown man...I'm afraid I can't let you use these."
Just as he finished, Zohan headed to teh cabin, and, after a moment behind it's door, returned with a rather standard looking fishing pole.
"We can let ya use this though."
He said, beaming.
"We gots some minnow in a bucket back there. Tell ya what. You catch anything good enough, and we have it fer dinner."
Thus, RInrin and Damien were able to begin their fishing. Vilyamar and Scourge have no interuptions, and ELandor....is doing whatever. I'm going to assume Teros is in his room..and I need to get ahold of him. I'll give ya another update soon enough, in the meantime, converse if you want, tell tales...You can even make up if you catch something.
Scourge listened intently to Vilyamar recount the word's the man, if he could be called a man spoke amidst the havoc upon the Naussica. Orion flew down to perch upon his shoulder, and caws lightly at the half-elf. "It will not do well to give more cause for upset and worry to your companions. Everyone, save perhaps the gnome knows the threat Thrundier posts. God, backed by the gods, or in possession of ancient godly magic, do not let caution become masked in fear. Erenall shall claim him as he claims all life, and the time shall come when I shall reap the harvest of his heart and send his soul to join those amongst the damned." Orion crossed from one shoulder to the other. "Until then, tread lightly with open eyes and ear alike, and we all shall prepare for our next clandestine encounter."
"Yes...Erenall shall balance the scales. We all knew the man, and I shall forever see him as a man, presented danger, but now you know he IS the challenge. And you are right, the others may take the knowledge to an extreme at this time, but they must know eventually. Take caution, Orion. Your master must be wary, for vengeance is the work of demons and the gods. We do what we must." The half-elf turned and watched the others as Damien and Rinrin fished off the side. Teros was nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected. He had lost a friend less than a week ago and the knight had not yet seemed to recover.